


The Façade of Perfection

by hellomiho



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-02 22:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13327239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellomiho/pseuds/hellomiho
Summary: Respected businessman, Chiba Mamoru, and renowned artist/violinist, Kaioh Michiru, have a picture-perfect relationship. Yet neither of them desire marriage and Michiru feels increasingly suffocated by the formality of Japanese high society. Chance encounters with Tsukino Usagi, a student aspiring to become a social worker, and Tenoh Haruka, the famous racer, change everything.





	1. Chapter 1

" _ Kaioh Michiru's New Painting: A Waste of Paint" _

_ By Okamoto Nephrite _

_ Kaioh Michiru, 28, has been Japan's pride and delight ever since the age of 6, when her prodigal skills on the violin became known. It seemed only right for the sole heiress of the Kaioh Financial Group, known for their patronship of the arts and traditional Japanese culture, to be as gifted as she was. Following her legendary performance of Leonard Bernstein's Serenade at Tanglewood, during which she broke two E strings, first on her own instrument and then on the concertmaster's Stradivarius after she borrowed it, Kaioh made headlines once more when it was found that she was a masterful painter as well. It seemed as if there was nothing the beautiful prodigy could not do. _

_ I have had the pleasure of attending all of Kaioh's art exhibits and each impressed me as the young artist reached new heights with each painting. Each brushstroke, each blending of colours, everything about her work displayed absolute mastery over the medium. Her dreamy, pastel masterpiece, "Space," uncovered in 20- brought international acclaim and has been shown in over 50 museums all over the world. As such, I had high expectations when Kaioh announced her new exhibit, the first in almost two years, only to have them plunge headfirst into the ground. _

_ Kaioh's new exhibit showcased only one new painting, a bold choice that was unfortunately the wrong choice in this case. "The End of the World," is a stark departure from her lighter-coloured paintings with "jarring" brushstrokes depicting a turbulent sea and a city being destroyed. One can only conclude that she painted as she did because she wanted to appear more mature. Yet the cumulative impression of the painting is that of a little girl playing dress up with her mother's clothing. _

_ Although I am an avid fan of Kaioh's artistry, a well to do girl who cannot even kill one bug should not attempt to draw such a tragic fantasy. The only emotions that came to mind when I laid my eyes upon the piece were distaste and pity for the waste of a canvas. Kaioh would be better suited sticking to her romantic and dreamy style, a refined and elevated version of Yumemi Yumeno's art that is more fitting of Kaioh's own elegant appearance. _

* * *

 

She woke up, blinking her eyes several times in the face of sunlight. Unwilling to get up quite so quickly but forcing herself to, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and languidly stretched her arms above her head. Sparing one quick look at the still sleeping man in her bed, she made her way to the bathroom and got into the shower.

Michiru relaxed at the sensation of the warm water on her body as all of the kinks in her back and neck from the activities of the previous night loosened. Time was nowhere in her mind as the water washed over her and she leisurely cleaned herself.

After a substantial amount of time had passed, she got out, wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel and going out into her bedroom. During her shower, Mamoru seemed to have woken up and he groggily looked up at her, instinctively going in for a light kiss. She acquiesced out of habit and then walked over to the vanity, where she began to brush her dark hair mindlessly, staring at her reflection. Michiru jolted out of her oblivion, having unconsciously dug her brush into her scalp.

Putting the brush down, she went over to the closet, filled with a mixture of Mamoru's and her clothes. Seeing as how they always spent the night together, it probably would have been more convenient to live together, but neither of them were willing to give up the privacy and comfort of their own apartments and so they made do by leaving their things at each other's places. Although this might have led to a large, unorganized mess, they were both neat people and Michiru easily pulled out a beige drape neck dress. She shimmied into it and once again checked her reflection. Fabric twisted loosely around her chest, but the nude jersey silk tightly hugged her hips and accentuated her slender yet feminine frame.

Mamoru stepped out of the bathroom, a towel identical to the one Michiru had worn, hanging on his hips. She turned her back to him and carefully lifted her hair, "Can you zip me up?"

Appreciatively eying the creamy expanse of skin revealed to him, the man zipped up the dress almost reluctantly before making his way to the closet.

Michiru went back to the vanity where rows of make up and differently shaped glass bottles of perfumes, creams, and lotions sat. She didn't use a lot of cosmetics but found a guilty pleasure in collecting them.

With her legs crossed elegantly underneath the bench, she sat at the vanity, perfecting herself with small touches of makeup here and there. After finishing her face and fixing her bangs so that they fell just so above her face, she rose and made her way to the closet where Mamoru stood, almost fully dressed and putting cuff links on. The collars of his shirt unfolded, he turned to Michiru and in a practiced motion, her slender fingers nimbly tied his tie. Smoothing down his blue button down shirt and feeling the body she knew so very well, she almost wanted to laugh at the sheer domesticity of the scene.

"You look beautiful," Mamoru said, putting his hands on her small waist and drawing her close in a mixture of courtesy and affection borne out of a long time together. His words evoked an unnameable emotion in Michiru and she gave a wry smile that didn't quite meet her eyes (but most of her smiles were like that these days).

"You look very handsome too," Michiru responded and danced out of his embrace in order to pick up a navy blue clutch. He took her escape as an opportunity to put his suit jacket on and after locking eyes with each other, silently affirming they were both ready, they made their way out of the bedroom.

* * *

 

Silence loomed as forks and knives quietly made work of the appetizers in front of them. All of the plates held a sake marinated shrimp sitting regally on top of a seaweed and sea bean salad with sour plums and puffed rice.

Michiru elegantly placed a bite of seaweed into her mouth. She couldn't say that she enjoyed eating as anything other than an action necessary for living (which was similar to Mamoru's line of thought) but she could still appreciate the artistry that had gone into this dish. Mamoru took a bite of the shrimp, sitting beside her.

Michiru's mother, Kaioh Hayami, a small and prim Japanese woman with her dark hair pulled up, delicately coughed and wiped her mouth with the silk napkin before breaking the silence.

"Mamoru-kun, it's nice to see you doing well. You look as handsome as ever."

"As do you, Kaioh-san. You look younger every time I see you" Mamoru smoothly replied, causing the older woman to wave the compliment off and respond.

"Oh, you're so polite. You truly are a son parents would be proud to claim as their own."

Kaioh Masashi, looking dignified and proper as always with his neatly swept hair and pressed suit, interjected, "Indeed. Congratulations on closing the deal with Ginga-san."

"Thank you Kaioh-san. You flatter me greatly, " Mamoru easily thanked him and Michiru felt a strangely ominous feeling settle at the pit of her stomach.

"Oh, but parents would be lucky to have a daughter like Michiru-chan. She's the absolute picture of sophistication and talent. I'm looking forward to your charity concert next week," Chiba Katsumi, a woman with a face rounded by age yet who still maintained a haughty demeanour, fawned.

Michiru politely smiled all while dread began to eat away at her stomach. She sensed Mamoru felt the foreboding aura of the air as well. Although he looked perfectly at ease in the restaurant, surrounded by their parents on all sides, she saw that tension gripped his body, albeit slightly.

The man who had kept silent through the social niceties, set his utensils down before clearing his throat. Chiba Akihiko was an imposing and austere version of Mamoru with lines set firmly in his face and a regal set of his shoulders.

"Have the two of you thought about getting married soon?"

The heavy question was a javelin that stabbed the youngest two people and abruptly pulled out, leaving behind two identical, gaping wounds. Despite her endless years of practice of putting on a calm mask, Michiru found she couldn't control her face and her eyes widened in shock. Next to her, Mamoru had the same look of surprise in his face and Mamoru's mother giggled.

"Oh, you two can't be that surprised. Surely marriage was on your minds. You've been with each other for the last seven years and you make such a nice looking couple."

The most important argument remained unspoken but obvious. Their marriage would bring about the union of Japan's most powerful families.

Her mind racing to come up with a quick excuse to explain herself, Michiru's eyes flickered down to the half-eaten plate in front of her. Marry Mamoru? To be honest, she couldn't truly explain why she felt so trapped and surprised by the prospect. As his mother had stated, they had been together for over seven years and they had a seemingly perfect relationship. They both understood each other without needing to say a single word and the physical aspect of their relationship wasn't lacking in any regards.

Yet, marrying Mamoru….

Fortunately, Mamoru seemed to have regained his composure before Michiru and he carefully said, "We haven't specifically discussed marriage with each other but marriage does tend to be the outcome of a relationship like ours."

Although their parents seemed to be momentarily placated by his empty words, Mamoru's father bluntly ordered, "Then putting off your marriage is only delaying the inevitable. I expect to hear good news soon."

* * *

"We will be seeing everyone at the races tomorrow, won't we? My husband's interested in doing some business with the champion racer, Tenoh Haruka," Mamoru's mother said earnestly as everyone got up from the table, although she couldn't quite hide her mouth curling with distaste as if even the name of the racer was scandalous.

Michiru's parents voiced their confirmations (although they were more used to refined environments like art galleries and traditional tea ceremonies, business was business). Michiru mechanically bowed, her mindless distractedness easily covered by her beauty and manners that had been ingrained into her from a young age.

After Mamoru's firm words of affirmation and polite farewells had been exchanged, Mamoru's parents were the first to leave. The young couple stayed behind as courtesy dictated they see everyone off before leaving themselves. As Michiru's stately parents made their way to leave, the older woman laid a hand on Michiru's arm in a smooth and deceptively gentle move. Lowering her voice so that the men couldn't hear her, Kaioh Hayami darkly hissed, "How dare you go behind my back. Why did you show  _ that _ painting? The reviews have been horrible and such depressing matters are not suitable for the Kaioh heiress to paint. Go back to painting some pretty landscapes before you bring more shame upon your family. This is  _ not _ what Japan expects of a Kaioh."

Her mother tightened her grip on Michiru's arm before dropping her hands and pasting on a dignified smile. Gracefully taking her husband's arm, she strided away to their waiting car without looking back a single time.

Michiru's hands clenched at her side, veins straining against the taut, porcelain skin of her fists as she stared robotically at where her mother had been standing.

"Take me home now. Please," she stated emotionlessly, the last word added almost as an afterthought. Mamoru calmly nodded and they finally left the restaurant.

* * *

Mamoru abruptly jerked his car out of the lane and parked next to a sidewalk, slamming his arm down in frustration (- _ click-) _ . After dropping Michiru off, he was unable to contain it any longer and a barrage of thoughts was assaulting his mind.

Marry Michiru?

He'd be lying if he said the thought hadn't crossed his mind before. People from prestigious families like theirs rarely dated without the intention of marriage. Yet, when their parents had so directly asked about marrying Michiru, he had been taken off guard for a reason he didn't know himself.

What had started as a partnership to avoid their parents' nagging to find suitable suitors had somehow persisted until they were facing their seventh year together. They had first met at a charity gala and having similar interests and personalities, had quickly bonded. Unlike some of their high society acquaintances who paraded their wealth and gossiped as much as they breathed, both Michiru and Mamoru were more reserved people with natural grace. They were always controlled, never letting reasonless passion control them and preferring to calmly speak through their actions, her through her music and art, him through his work in the company.

It was easy being with Michiru. Neither of them required ostentatious displays of love or constant reassurances. They understood when the other needed space with little more than a single glance, which was why he wasn't expecting Michiru to come over to his flat tonight (Last night had been the first time in a while). He had been noticing lately that the aqua haired woman seemed frustrated and almost stifled, going off into her own world more and more often. He supposed it was only natural as people of their status; exceedingly high expectations were held of them and their every actions were scrutinized by the public. Michiru, just as him, had always been good at covering up the strain of being such a public figure, but the harsh art review seemed to have been the final catalyst. Due to both his patrician upbringing and relationship with Michiru, he had gone to his fair share of art exhibits and acquired a decent understanding of art. Her newest piece was disturbing to say the least with its dark subject matter but the esteemed critic's quick censure of the piece seemed undeserved.

Not to mention, she was an artist in every sense of the word. Artistic slumps were nothing new, and he knew that even artistic geniuses fell victim to slumps, perhaps especially because of their impossible levels of talent. He didn't dare to think that he understood the intricate complexities of being a creative genius and so he let her be.

With the combination of her frustration and their parents' sudden insistence on marriage, he knew that they both needed some alone time.

There were still so many arguments in favor of their marriage but Mamoru couldn't help but feel hesitant. Even though Mamoru could easily see himself living the rest of his life with her and growing old with her, was that really what he wanted? Their relationship was by no means affectionless and it was quite physically passionate. Yet there was something lacking.

He ran his hair through his dark hair, cobalt eyes distractedly roaming the empty road in front of him as conflicting thoughts warred in him.

Suddenly hearing a " _ click"  _ and a rustle of clothes, Mamoru whipped his head to the back seat of his car, only to see a young girl. The blonde looked to be a few years younger than him, her blonde hair done in a strange style that resembled dumplings, and numerous papers and books engulfed her hands. She seemed frazzled, and noticing his gaze on her, immediately spoke with an urgency gripping her voice, "Mister, take me to Juuban University please!"

Mamoru threw a withering glance at the girl, audacious enough to mistake his sleek Bentley for a taxi.

"Oi, Odango-atam-"

The girl talked over him, missing his glare as she futilely tried to fix the mess of papers that had erupted on her lap. Perhaps sensing his displeasure, her hands stopped their frantic movement and she met his gaze head on with unwavering, bright cerulean eyes. Mamoru marveled at her eyes; they were so similar in colour to Michiru's yet they seemed to glow with an ethereal purity and sincerity, as transparent as they were intense.

"Please take me to block 64."

* * *

 

Mamoru didn't know why he did it, why he had capitulated to the random girl's plea. She had just seemed so desperate and he had needed to regain some power back in his life after the catastrophic lunch. He was unable to help Michiru with her problems because he was plagued with his own problems, which were of a similar nature, but helping this girl was easy and almost cathartic.

Her heartfelt thanks, uttered as she and her papers spilled out of his car, seemed more genuine than most of the things in his life. Somehow feeling refreshed after having dropped the girl off, Mamoru glanced back with a curious smile, only to see a small ID card lying strewn on the seat.

He stopped at the stoplight, reaching back to grab the abandoned card.

" _ Juuban University, Tsukino Usagi, 06/30/199-" _

* * *

Drawers were pulled open in no discernible pattern and tubes of paint littered the pure ivory ground in stark contrast with the tidy meticulousness of the room they were in. The trail of paint tubes twisted and turned, ending at the slightly ajar bathroom door where a glimmer of light peeked out.

Michiru stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror with intense scrutiny. These were the features that in combination with her music and artistry, endeared her to the entirety of Japan:her piercing cobalt eyes, her ebony pin-straight hair that perfectly framed her small, porcelain face...She truly was the epitome of Japanese beauty standards.

Her eyes darkened with an unnameable emotion and her hands gripped one of her paint brushes and the sole paint tube that had escaped from being thrown onto the ground.

With firm hands that betrayed no signs of weakness, Michiru squeezed a sizable amount of vivid teal paint out, staining the fine, ivory hairs of the brush. Taking a deep breath, Michiru resolutely met the eyes of her despicable counterpart in the mirror before raising the brush to her hair.

* * *

A plane soared into the air as a blonde stepped out of the airport. Propping her dark sunglasses on top of her windswept hair, she soaked in the sights around her and took a deep breath.

After two years, Tenoh Haruka was finally back in Japan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! As I was working on "The First Clinic..." I suddenly got an idea for another story! This story is, for the most part, original (well, as original as a love story can be) and doesn't heavily rely on other outside sources like Korean dramas or other mangas, so I'm kinda excited! The violin incident described in the article actually happened to Midori Goto, a famous Japanese violinist, when she was 14. She's really an amazing musician!  
> If you can't tell by now, I have a weird fascination with Mamoru/Michiru. They're both so similarly calm and perfect that I can't help liking the two together!  
> I also love putting in references to the original manga/anime! Please read and review!


	2. Chapter 2

Michiru didn't know when it had happened.

Having grown up surrounded by the finer things in life, she had always loved music and art, much to the relief of her parents who needed her to do something suitably elegant and respectable as their sole heir.

Music and art had always just been there. And that was enough for her as she poured her soul into her pieces, letting the notes and brushstrokes devour her whole. Who could possibly care about the trivialities of the world when her violin and paintbrush were siren calls, enthralling her to the point where she became a mere instrument of her instruments, a single person who stood no chance of resisting the passionate swells of the ocean inside her.

As she got older, she had gotten better at helping form the music and art that ensued from her, though she was never in complete control (as fully taming such an ocean was assuredly impossible). She wasn't a doll that unwittingly swayed to the will of the ocean, but rather a collaborator who went along with the flow and fought against the currents at times. And that made her music ring louder and her paintings speak volumes.

But then, she had suddenly started simply going through the motions, feeling not even a fraction of the joy and passion that had once made her  _feel_  in this sensationless world.

A charity concert followed by an art exhibit followed by a gallery followed by another concert and so on and so on.

And then it had just stopped.

The ocean she was had just stopped, frozen in a tranquil state that showed no signs of ever flowing again.

No longer did mere laughter, heard fleetingly as she walked in the streets, inspire series of nostalgic violin sonatas that spoke of times before. No longer did a lone leaf, lying crumpled on the sidewalk stir the tranquil ocean that she was and spur the creation of rosy paintings that provoked even the hardest of hearts to soften.

She stared at her despicably white canvas for hours on end, searching desperately in that blankness to find something that would provoke even the smallest ripple in her.

She played her violin endlessly to the point where the strings of her violin were constantly etched into the hardened skin of her fingertips and her left pinky lost all feelings of sensation, trying to reach that beautiful moment she had so easily taken for granted, when her music and her soul were one.

The dreams didn't help.

Dreams of unspeakable suffering where she was but a helpless spectator as The Silence occurred around her, the whole world collapsing into devastation. The blood and screams of countless innocents drowned the realm of her mind every night until she began to dread sleep and the painful nightmares it heralded. After a few sleepless months, they eventually decreased in frequency until they themselves seemed like a dream. But the relief she felt was inconsequential.

No longer in tune with her artistry, with herself, she had given up, fallen into a slump, and in every sense of the word, died.

Of course, no one could tell. Make-up vanished all traces of the dark bags under her eyes and she was too good, too perfect at putting on a façade of perfection that even she got fooled herself sometimes. But she would not, she  _could not_  paint or play the violin (she was on a sabbatical for health issues according to the official statement released by her agency). And so her studio remained unused, redelegated from a place that had seen countless births and been her true home, to a place that seemed to shout at her in shame and disappointment. The foot of her bed, where her beloved violin had used to rest, collected dust, her violin gently shoved into the back of her overly big closet where there wouldn't be even the slightest chance of her accidentally coming upon it.

This had continued for almost two years with Michiru going to every business function and charity gala required of her, maintaining her perfect appearance as the Kaioh heiress and Chiba Mamoru's girlfriend all while feeling utterly soulless.

Until her mother had finally had enough. Over a month ago, she had dropped by Michiru's apartment, her face engraved with stern lines.

("I've scheduled an art exhibit and a charity concert next month. This has gone on long enough.")

Despite her furious protests, she couldn't win against her adamant mother and newspapers blared headlines proclaiming her return to the artistic world and how she was sure to come back with masterpieces of a sort the world had never seen before.

("You cannot disgrace the Kaioh name. Just paint some pretty flowers and rivers. That's all the public wants.")

Internally screaming the entire time, she tentatively set foot into her dusty studio for the first time in years and sat in front of her canvas as her hands trembled while tightly gripping a paintbrush. Face ashen, she sat there for hours, the blank canvas and fresh paint mocking her until finally something broke in Michiru.

With a violent shove, her easel clattered to the ground, paint splattering the ivory floor. Michiru dragged out one of her larger canvasses, long-forgotten passion coursing through her veins and directing her every motion. A buzzing began to ring in Michiru's ears as the world screamed in protest at the abomination being created but she took no notice of it. Hours passed yet she didn't cease her frantic, almost possessed brushstrokes as she smothered the blank canvas with heavy stygian shades.

At the end of it all, her studio resembled a crime scene and she the murderer? victim? Was there a difference? Paint engulfed her body, dripping into bloodlike splatters on the ground.

Facing the carnage she had created on the canvas, Michiru began to tremble uncontrollably as horror welled up in her. Raising her shaking hands to her face, Michiru wept.

("Now that wasn't too hard, was it? Everything looks perfect.")

The gallery was filled with beautiful paintings, dozens of dreamy pastel concoctions of flowers and landscapes that would make even the most celebrated artists overwhelmed with envy. They disgusted her.

Vapid, empty paintings that were nothing more than pleasing aesthetics. In every way, they were more of an abomination than the piece she had created a week ago.

As she walked through her exhibit which would be shown the next day, physical revulsion welled up in her. Everything was perfect. Her paintings were all hung perfectly at right angles, subtle warm lights illuminating the "vivid life" in them.

She hated it. She hated all of it.

Cobalt eyes raging furiously, Michiru systematically knocked each painting off the wall, each producing a satisfying crash as they collided with the ground. After placing just one painting, her first true work of art in years, in the middle of the exhibit, her heels clicked firmly away.

("Please get rid of the trash on the ground.")

* * *

"Oh, Mamoru-kun, did you not come with Michiru?" Kaioh Hayami asked with a hint of suspicion. With her strict bun and royal blue dress, she looked wholly out of place in the racing arena, even though they were in a private viewing facility.

"Ah, she said she had to take care of a few matters but she will be here soon," Mamoru replied, dressed a little more casually but still professionally in a white button down shirt.

With a small frown on her face, the woman walked away to her husband, who was currently conversing with Mamoru's mother.

Chiba Akihiko was sitting imperiously in front of the window, his eyes glued to a certain racer in the middle of her warm up laps. After a quick once over of the room which seemed to leave him displeased, and a polite exchange of greetings with the other parents that he completed as quickly as socially acceptable, he had taken his seat with a glass of scotch he sipped periodically.

Free at the moment, Mamoru's hand itched towards his pocket where a small rectangle silently beckoned him, before he shook his head and dutifully stood next to his father.

* * *

"I heard that she's a," Katsumi dropped her voice to a low whisper with scandalised eyes, "homosexual. She's pranced all over Europe and America flaunting her female lovers. But no matter what I say, Akihiko-kun won't change his mind about sponsoring her!"

"I'm sure Akihiko-san is being purely professional. Tenoh-san may not be the most traditional woman but, despite her  _transgressions_ , she is undeniably popular and Akihiko-san is technically sponsoring the entire Ferrari team," Masashi replied firmly though a fleeting look of distaste belied his words. His wife nodded politely in affirmation, about to add her own perspective to the situation when she took in a sharp breath and froze in shock.

_crash!_

* * *

Mamoru turned his head to the sound of shattering glass in surprise, first seeing the stiff posture of Michiru's mother, wrinkles of surprise etched into her forehead. In a strange domino effect, he saw Kaioh-san and then his mother turn towards his direction and similar expressions of shock take over their faces.

Turning around himself, Mamoru's eyes widened once he got a look at the person who had entered the room.

* * *

Kaioh Michiru, the epitome of the ideal Japanese woman in terms of beauty, talents, personality, and everything else that could possibly matter, glided into the room with vibrant aquamarine tresses. Stunned silence reigned as one by one, everyone looked at her and took in her new hairstyle with dropped jaws (and a dropped glass).

She relished their expressions.

Smiling beauteously with an air of satisfaction, Michiru confidently strode towards Mamoru, easily slipping her arm into his.

"I'm not too late, am I?"

Mamoru shook his head as his eyes narrowed, quickly trying to calculate and understand her. With a tiny sigh, he turned back to the glass.

"You're just in time."

* * *

" _Welcome to the first annual Chiba Charity Race! All of the major Formula One teams are here today and the winner will have roughly $5500 donated to the charity of their choice in their team's name."_

" _Now Mike, even though altruism is good and all, this is an extremely important race. This is a chance for the teams to show off their best drivers and intimidate others before the start of the F1 season in a month."_

" _Absolutely. The winner of today's race will definitely set the tone for the upcoming season, which will start with the Austrian Prix next month, and all eyes are on the drivers today."_

" _Let's take a look at them now. Katsutoshi Yamada of McLaren is looking better than ever. He's really a rock solid racer."_

_"Couldn't agree with you more but the fan favorite has to be Haruka Tenoh. No questions about it."_

_"Haruka Tenoh, who acquired pole position for this race, is certainly the most interesting racer down there. Beginning as one of the youngest F1 drivers ever at the age of seventeen, she exceeded all expectations and broke more than a few records, winning five world championships with four of them successive. Tenoh was loved for her multifaceted charm, being nothing but fierce and oftentimes ruthless in her famous rivalry with the now retired Seiya Kou, but also being compassionate to the point that she jumped out of her own car to help a racer that had crashed. And her racing was just breathtaking. I still don't think I've seen anyone quite so in control of their car."_

" _That's right. And when it rained, she was just a pure genius…"_

" _However, in 20—, a horrific crash occurred at the Japanese Grand Prix, the second to last race of the season, leading to the tragic death of F1 racer, Souichi Tomoe, may he rest in peace."_

" _His front wing failed, causing him to ram straight into the wall at 314km/hour speeds, instead of rounding the turn. A piece of bodywork flew from his car, right into Tenoh's car as she tried to overtake him and despite her best efforts, her car spun out of control and crashed into the wall as well."_

" _It was truly one of the most horrific crashes in F1 history. Although Tomoe was declared dead shortly after, Tenoh had managed to reduce her speed and suffered a lesser impact. Nevertheless, it was nothing less than a miracle that Tenoh survived, although she suffered fractured ribs, a collapsed lung, and a broken shoulder amongst numerous other injuries. After a startlingly fast recovery and a series of rigorous health examinations, Tenoh has just recently been cleared to return to the circuit in a little over a year"_

" _Many eyes will specifically be on Tenoh during this race. The announcement that she'd recovered enough to participate in this year's season brought a lot of skepticism and speculation. No one's seen Tenoh race since her accident and this race will show whether she's truly recovered and if the accident has affected her driving."_

" _Now, the accident wasn't Tenoh's first crash, far from it. While Seiya Kou was racing, Haruka was involved with more than a few crashes, some maybe even intentionally, in their fiery rivalry. However, the crash in 20_ was the first crash in several years to have led to a fatality."_

" _That's not something you recover from easily. As much as I'd like to see the champion return, I've gotta say I'm betting on Yamada to win the upcoming season."_

_"Are you kidding me? Yamada's only won two championships and one of them was when Tenoh was out of the season! Tenoh's like the wind out there in the race track! There's no way she won't win."_

" _I don't know. I find it nearly impossible to believe she could have recovered from all her injuries in that short amount of time and the final world championship deciding Grand Prix is in the very circuit of her accident..."_

_"Well I guess I can see what you're saying... Enough speculating about the upcoming season now. Richard Buckley from Mercedes is also looking to be in great shape today_

… _._

" _We're coming up on the penultimate lap of the race today. Tenoh's had the lead for almost the entire race but Yamada's remained close on her tail."_

" _Even though Tenoh's been leading, there's just something missing. Maybe I'm just making this up but her racing's just lost that spark._

" _What are you talking about? And we're entering the final lap of the race! OH MY GOD! With one aggressive turn, Yamada's taken the lead from Tenoh! They're near the finish line! She and Yamada are neck and neck! Will Tenoh retake the lead just in time?"_

"AND  _Katsutoshi Yamada is the winner of today's charity race!"_

"A  _heartfelt congratulations to Yamada and McLaren from the crew here at ESPN!"_

* * *

Michiru looked away from the race course once the race ended, sipping a glass of champagne. She couldn't say she knew much about racing or was interested in it but she appreciated the effort and passion the drivers had put into their craft. They were true masters of their craft, artists of the wind no less than she had been an artist through her paintings and music.

She supposed it was a shame that Tenoh Haruka hadn't won. Again, she didn't know much about her other than the fact that she was widely considered to be the best in a male dominated sport, which demanded respect in and of itself, and that Mamoru's father was interested in sponsoring her (team).

From their private viewing box up above, the racers themselves were little more than blobs as they got out of their cars even with Michiru's sharp vision. Mamoru's father stared stonily at the awards ceremony, his shoulders stiff as Katsutoshi Yamada and the rest of the McLaren crew received a giant check of 600,000 yen.

Gently laying her arm on Mamoru's, Michiru politely excused herself to go to the restroom and got up from her seat.

Washing her hands in the golden-lit bathroom, Michiru stared at her reflection and this time, she smirked contently. This morning, she had gone to the hair salon and gotten her hair professionally done. Acrylic paint would only last so long and she wanted the bold colour to stay. On a whim, Michiru had also decided to get a perm: just one more thing that would break her from her mold of perfection.

They were small things yes, but for a public figure like her, especially considering the family she came from, they were staggering changes.

Michiru turned to grab a paper towel when the restroom door slammed shut and she found herself face to face with an extremely furious woman. Despite her mother's perfect posture and calm face, small hints of her anger like the small tick in her jaw were crystal clear to Michiru.

"I've scheduled an appointment at the salon now. Whatever you've done to your hair can easily be undone," her words were clipped as if she couldn't trust herself to speak normally without erupting in rage.

Michiru stared stonily into her mother's eyes, unwilling to capitulate like she had so many times before.

"No."

All pretenses of civility vanished and the air seemed to quiver with tension before Hayami sharply delivered a slap to Michiru's face. The aqua haired woman stood her ground, unmoving even as her cheek prickled from the impact.

"You are not a normal person. You are, first and foremost, the sole heiress of the Kaioh Family. Everything you do reflects on our family and our business. How  _dare_  you have the audacity to think you have any free will? First the painting and now this? I will take no more of this  _rebellious_  stage you seem to be in. Think very carefully about your next actions, Michiru."

Smoothing her immaculate dress down, Hayami stalked out of the bathroom, each click of her heels driving the wedge between mother and daughter further apart.

Michiru stood in the same position, her prickling cheek still turned to the side with every muscle in her body tensed. After several counts, she straightened and elegantly tucked a wayward curl behind her ear before heading back out.

* * *

A familiar pain wracked the right of her chest.

Taking care to control her expression, Haruka carefully navigated her way around the reporters who had swarmed her.

"Can you give me a statement on what happened in the last lap?" "Do you think this race is an accurate prediction of how you'll perform in the season that's about to start? "Do you have any comments on rumours that you'll retire after this year's season?" "Would you say your accident is the reason you're holding back?"

She scowled at the greedy mass, a clear warning in her eyes, causing a brief moment in reprieve before they swarmed to her again. She had used to enjoy answering their never-ending questions with good humour and flirting with the cute ones (often doing more than just flirting by the end of the night). It was laughable, really. And now, even though they had realised she would only answer their questions during testing days, they still questioned her relentlessly.

Mike Schumer, her fellow Ferrari driver who had placed a respectable fourth place in the race, eagerly went up to her, breaking her out of her reverie.

"Wow, that was such an awesome race! Nice job Haruka! It's a shame you didn't win!"

Haruka allowed herself to be amused, slinging an arm around him despite her body's immediate insistence against the pose. Mike was a fairly recent addition to the Ferrari team, but a damn good racer. Called the "next Haruka Tenoh" by the media (and Haruka knew Ferrari had been training him to be just that during her hiatus), Mike still had a large amount of hero worship for her, always overly enthusiastic.

Having made their way back to the Ferrari garage, they were greeted by their team manager.

"Hurry up, we have a short meeting with the new Ferrari sponsor."

* * *

"Haruka, what the hell was that," Mauricio emphatically stated, his indignation evident in how he reverted to his native Italian, "You were all clear to go! I told you to push it!"

Haruka looked away with hooded eyes before sincerely apologising to the man who had come to be like her uncle, "Sorry."

At the heavy words that dropped from the blonde's mouth, Mauricio sighed, running a hand through his grey hair, and looked at her with something akin to sadness, "Haruka…"

"Well, we're here now. I trust I'll be doing the speaking?" She kept her gaze steady to the front, unable to face his eyes.

"Damned translator went with Mike for his interview, instead of coming with us. But I trust you."

He clapped a warm hand on Haruka's shoulder, accepting the sudden change in subject, though their conversation was nowhere near over.

At the private viewing area, a group of elegant Japanese people stood in wait. Approaching them, Haruka couldn't help but be wary.

She bowed deeply to the imposing man who was no doubt the lead of the group and spoke fluently,

"It is an honour to meet you, Chiba-san. This is the Ferrari team principal, Benarrive Mauricio."

The two men exchanged firm handshakes and Haruka continued.

"And I am one of the drivers, Tenoh Haruka. On behalf of the team, I'd like to thank you for your support.

The man continued to watch her with his intense gaze without speaking, tension soaking the air. A pleasant expression pasted on her face, Haruka remained silent as did the others, waiting for him to break the silence.

"For someone who's known as the best racer alive, today was a rather disappointing performance. Should I expect this year's season to go like this as well?"

Fist unconsciously tightening at her side, Haruka felt a sudden blazing resolve rush over her, meeting his gaze unabashedly.

"I'm going to win the championship."

The emphatic words hung stagnantly in the balance between them before Akihiko accepted the words with a nod and held his hand out to the blonde.

They exchanged a firm handshake as everyone's eyes were on them and Mamoru thought he could sense a subtle air of satisfaction and grudging respect from his father.

Betraying none of her own surprise at the response that had come instinctively out of her, Haruka promptly introduced herself and Mauricio to the rest of the group, starting with Kaioh-san, Mamoru, and then finally the sole woman of the group, only for her to give a pompous sniff and turn her head in distaste. Betraying nothing on her face, Haruka calmly turned her attention back to Chiba, when another woman slipped into the group.

"Ahem, this is my wife, Kaioh Hayami," Masashi said. She wasn't as outright hostile as Chiba's wife had been, but even as Haruka introduced herself to her, Haruka could feel the disapproval emanating from her (and knew Mauricio felt it too even if he didn't understand the language, judging by the subtle curl of his mouth). Well, it wasn't anything Haruka wasn't used to.

Masashi continued, "Ah and my daughter is making her way here as well. She's….."

The words coming out of his mouth seemed to blend into one as Haruka turned to see the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

* * *

Passion in its purest form drowned Michiru.

Blonde hair tousled from the wind, sharp blue eyes that pierced into her very being, a defined yet delicate jawline, her almost stiff, polite posture that betrayed her discomfort and longing to leave, this person  _was_  the wind.

Her fingers twitched almost imperceptibly at her side, begging to capture the magnificent being in front of her on paper, through music, anything Michiru could get her hands on. She stared without restraint, her eyes devouring the blonde as they tried to commit every detail of the face that had finally spurred the ocean inside her to memory.

In the midst of her reverie, Michiru subconsciously registered the woman introducing herself and savoured the husky tone that caused shivers down her spine

"Tenoh Haruka."

Ignoring the etiquette ingrained in her that told her to respond to the blonde and introduce herself, Michiru confidently stated,

"You lost."

At some point while she was staring at the aqua haired goddess, Haruka had realized she was gaping like an idiot and had promptly introduced herself, regaining tentative control of herself.

Haruka bristled at the overly blatant remark but managed to rein in a snappish retort, and stiffly said, "I did."

"You were holding back."

Suspicion rose in Haruka at the confident accusation and she ignored the feelings of affection that had blossomed in her all too readily and strangely, as she asked with narrowed eyes,

"How would you know?"

"Can't you hear the sound of the wind rustling?"

Haruka snapped her head to truly meet Michiru's eyes for the first time, only to be met with wild cerulean seas in the woman's eyes. Something changed in the air as a tension, not at all grim, filled the space between the two, who continued to pore into each other's eyes, unwilling and unable to look away.

"Oh, Michiru, I'm so excited to hear you tomorrow. It's been so long since I've heard your wonderful music. I simply cannot wait until you and Mamoru get married so I can listen to you every day ," Mamoru's mother gushed ingenuously, an unsubtle emphasis on the word "married." Immediately, Mamoru turned to stare at his mother, silently warning her to not go any further. She ignored him and continued, "Tenoh-san, will we see you at the concert? Then again, you don't seem like the type of person who enjoys and appreciates classical music. It's much too refined for you, isn't it?" Mamoru's mother asked, insincerity dripping from her voice.

"Okaa-san," Mamoru finally interjected with reproof, giving an apologetic glance at the blonde racer who had remained silent.

At the mention of the word "married" Haruka had unconsciously stiffened, no longer leaning towards the aqua-haired woman as she unconsciously had been, before mentally rebuking herself for being so affected about a woman she had met just minutes before.

At the blatant insult, Haruka pasted a bright yet glaringly fake smile on her face.

"Would you be my model?" Michiru interrupted smoothly, a hint of urgency in her otherwise mellifluous voice. Unwritten music reverberated in her mind, begging to be played and she focused solely on the blonde in front of her, paying no attention to the tense atmosphere and the words that had been said. She could not let this person get away from her no matter what.

The two mothers' attention snapped to Michiru, clearly scandalised, and they both made to speak words of reproach.

"I don't like stuff like that. It's a little genteel for my tastes," Haruka coldly said before turning to the three men of the group.

"Chiba-san, Kaioh-san, Chiba-san," Haruka nodded in turn to each of them and quickly made her way out, knowing Mauricio would be able to somehow cover for her, even despite the language barrier.

Akihito watched the disheartened figure of Michiru with narrowed eyes.

* * *

"...thinks it best if you stay in Japan until the week of the first Prix, which is when you'll fly out to Austria. Ferrari's just gotten a new sponsorship with the Chiba Group and you're gonna have to do some heavy press for that deal this month. You'll need to come to the training facilities at least thrice a week while you're in Japan, and don't forget to keep up with your physical therapy appointments every other day..."

Haruka nodded blankly at the stream of words flowing out of her agent, her mind occupied by other matters. Mauricio had quickly gone back to the garage to finish preparations for the next day; as much as his job required him to play the silver-tongued fox in order to please sponsors (who spoke Italian or English), he was most at home in the garage or stadium.

She had once empathised with that feeling, had spent hours with her car, tweaking the smallest details, pouring her blood, sweat, her very soul into it… Haruka quickly redirected her thoughts, and found her thoughts unwittingly wandering over to the woman she had met today. In just one brief meeting, she had shaken Haruka's very world. Mixed emotions clashed inside her, from trepidation to wariness to a strange warmth that threatened to consume her.

"For your first PR for the Chiba Group, you're be expected to make an appearance at a charity function tomorrow. I'll send over an appropriate suit to your apartment...""

Haruka snapped to attention at her agent's words. This had to be her concert.

She mentally shook herself, expelling all traces of emotion. Michiru was very clearly involved with a man and besides, Haruka had no intention, no right to fall in love. She could not have anyone important to her.

"When you land in Austria next month, you'll be immediately meeting with Director Marchiolle. It's not the most ideal time but you cannot push it back any further. I can't hold him off any longer, nor do I want to. Obviously, your contract for next year won't be officially discussed until we're nearer the end of the season, but we need a general understanding of your future plans.

Quickly sobering, Haruka gave a noncommittal nod to the extremely displeased woman before leaving her behind.

* * *

Mamoru stalked to the windows, clearly agitated as his mother followed his strides, "Okaa-san, what were you thinking when you said those things? Not only were they rude, they-"

He cut himself off, turning away from his mother with his hands on his hips, as he tried to regain control of his emotions.

His mother was unfazed, curtly responding, "I was doing it in the interest of our family. We can't afford for Michiru to get distracted now. Besides, was I saying anything false?"

The man stared wordlessly at his mother's challenge, indignant words about to form, until a deep voice intruded.

"Your mother is right."

At his father's entrance, Katsumi smoothly retreated, no doubt to conspire with Michiru's mother.

"I've called Osaka-san and informed her that you'll be by the store this week."

Mamoru suppressed his temper, knowing it would do more harm than good to continue and turned to his father with questioning eyes.

"Where would you like me to go?"

Akihiko took a sip of his scotch, leisurely looking outside the glass walls of the viewing box to where workers were busily cleaning up the arena before handing him a business card.

_Harry Winston Luxury Jewelry_

"Lock it down."

Struck speechless, Mamoru stared agape at his father as his mind furiously worked to create a response.

"I presume you haven't forgotten that your marriage to Michiru is essential to the success of the company. If you lose her, if you lose the Kaiohs, this business will never see the light of day outside of Asia."

Akihito sharply locked his eyes with Mamoru and Mamoru found his mouth dry as he desperately tried to say something, anything.

"I-"

"Go pick out a ring you think Michiru will like. A woman of her caliber is not someone you will come upon again."

His uncompromisingly harsh tone became ever so slightly gentler - Akihito had always respected Michiru and had a soft spot for her in his own way. Seeing no logical argument, Mamoru conceded.

"Yes, Father."

* * *

Mamoru rested his chin on his fingers, looking pensively at two rectangles lying innocently on his desk. Their sizes were identical, down to the smallest millimeter, yet their contents and their significances were antitheses. A scowl distorted his sharply defined face and a frustrated exhale of air left his mouth.

This ID, this girl would not leave his mind. Even with the shock of Michiru's hairstyle change and his father's warning, the blonde girl had remained in the back of his mind. What was it that struck him about her? What was it about her that made his rationality all but disappear? It couldn't be her looks; she was cute yes, but he literally had the most beautiful woman in Japan as his girlfriend. Was it just that he was trying to escape the inevitability of marrying Michiru?

Yet he couldn't easily dismiss his father's words. His marriage to Michiru was essential. Expanding into the international market was a monumental, hit-or-miss step for the company and the board members would never agree to continue the expansion unless they knew Mamoru had the complete support of the Kaioh Financial Group through his relationship with Michiru. And was he going to blow off seven years with Michiru for a girl who he had met just yesterday for a mere fifteen minutes?

He scrutinized the cards, futilely examining it for any details he might have missed, before he uttered a curse and abruptly got up from his desk, swiping one of the cards into his pocket. Slamming the door as he left, he sharply instructed his secretary,

"Cancel my schedule for today."

* * *

A/N: I'm aiming to have Haruka be a mixture of Ayrton Senna and Michael Schumacher, both legendary drivers in their own right.

Why is it that I can only bring myself to focus and write when I have pressing deadlines and exams?


	3. Chapter 3

" _Is that really him?" "What's he doing on campus?" "Do you think Kaioh Michiru is nearby?"_

What in the world had he been thinking?

Mamoru stood stiffly in his crisp designer suit, standing out among the sea of casually dressed students. Curious murmurs found their way into his ears despite his best attempt to shut them out, followed by questioning glances.

This had all been a huge mistake.

Had he really expected to find one single girl in the middle of an entire college campus with only her name and appearance to go by?

The papers and contracts that still required his signature and approval flashed in his mind. With their impending venture into the international market, Mamoru had no time to waste on a silly distraction. Shaking his head in dismay at his momentary lapse of judgment, he made to leave the busy quad when-

"Oh! Taxi-san!"

A blonde head separated from the crowd, dashing over to join him and disrupting his impromptu circle of isolation that had been created as the students instinctively kept their distance from him. Seeing the perky woman who had just occupied his thoughts in front of him, Mamoru was suddenly left at a loss for words and he stared at her.

"I never paid you for the taxi ride, did I? I'm so sorry, I was just in such a rush to get to my exam that day, it completely slipped my mind!" Usagi rambled, eyes wide and arms moving almost comically in large gestures, "Ah, I don't think I have any money today either! I'm so sorry, maybe I could get you a drink? There's this great cafe I know that's run by my friend!"

* * *

Despite his protests (which had been rolled over by Usagi's enthusiasm), Mamoru found himself sitting in the booth of a cafe lavishly decorated with flowers and cute ornaments. Across his requested cup of tea was a large milkshake, that was in the middle of being devoured by the petite blonde.

As he sipped his tea, he watched her, wondering just what about her had caused his fascination with her. Now that he wasn't just seeing her reflection in the car mirror, he could appreciate the pure energy and joy that seemed to emanate from her, although perhaps the milkshake had a large role in that.

"While I appreciate the tea, I actually came here to return this to you, Tsukino-san," Mamoru said smoothly, sliding over her ID. Her milkshake finished (in an extraordinarily short amount of time, Mamoru noted with not a small amount of amusement), Usagi reverently took the ID and looked at him, surprise etched into her face.

Amused at how clearly her face betrayed her emotions, Mamoru couldn't help but tease her good-naturedly, "I hope you realise how lucky you are that I was the one to find it. Not many 'taxi drivers' would go this far to return a lost item."

"I was searching for my ID everywhere! I was so worried I wouldn't be able to find it… I need to pay you back somehow!" Usagi said passionately, eyes glittering furiously with unshed tears of relief. Taken aback by her dramatic response, Mamoru quickly made to calm her down and say her thanks was more than enough, when his business cell started to ring.

Excusing himself, he walked to a corner of the cafe and discreetly answered the call.

* * *

Usagi had been so terrified when she had realised she had once again misplaced her student ID. It would have cost a verifiable fortune (6000 yen) to replace and she didn't have that kind of money to shell out, not after having paid for four replacement ID's already. They were just so inconveniently small, easily left behind and forgotten when she had so much schoolwork and exams to focus on.

Well, now she'd have to find a way to repay Taxi-san for not only driving her, but also finding her ID. Since she didn't have a lot of spare money, maybe she could cook for him?

_Tendrils of smoke consumed the kitchen despite the opened window and Usagi, covered in various traces of unidentifiable mush, stared hopelessly at the still smoking pot._

Perhaps it would be better for both the health of his kitchen and him that she didn't cook. She could always clean?

Usagi recalled how just this morning, she had jumped her way out of her room due to the massive piles of clothing and other such items that littered her floor. Besides, even with just one look at his immaculate appearance, she could tell that he wasn't in need of organisational help.

She had to be able to repay him in some way, she just had to-!

* * *

Mamoru returned to the table, not bothering to sit back down when he was about to leave. As expected, his presence was needed at work to officially start the process of buying out the American company that owned the patent they needed. It was like the universe was reminding him that he didn't have time to waste on silly things like the matter with this university girl, not that he had had any untoward intentions. He had simply been returning her ID to her. He was already in a committed, if at times distant relationship (not to mention she was  _twenty two)_.

"I'm afraid I'll have to leave you now, Tsukino-san. Thank you for the tea. I hope you'll be more careful in the future when entering strangers' cars."

"Oh! Are you leaving now?" Usagi jolted from her seat, noticing offhandedly that she only reached the top of his broad chest, "Thank you so much for everything. Would you please meet me at this cafe on Monday if you have time? I'd really like a chance to pay you back properly!"

She bowed deeply before gazing hopefully at him, her hands clasped tightly at her back. Pausing at the unexpected request, Mamoru ignored the vibrating of his cell phone in his pocket and stared directly at her. Absorbing her rosy optimism, he couldn't find the heart to say no.

As he made his way out of the quaint cafe, he heard her calling out to him.

"Oh, Taxi-san! I never asked you for your name!:

He smoothly responded while continuing to walk to his car, "Endou."

Was it wrong of him to not want her to know who he was?

* * *

Michiru loosely tied her hair back with a red ribbon before leaning forward again and scrutinising the numerous sketches that were sprawled across the tabletop. They were of varying degrees of completion but they all showed the same figure with windswept hair that fell just so above a defined yet soft face. Yet they all lacked… something. The nearly tangible sense of freedom and independence that the blonde exuded effortlessly, the feeling that she was the only thing anchoring Michiru in the world but could disappear within a second.

It was no good. Without her model in front of her, Michiru wouldn't be able to capture her. Sighing in frustration, the aqua haired woman rose from her stool and opened the tall window to her apartment. The gauzy white curtains danced with the newly entered breeze and Michiru languidly stretched, letting the wind caress her. Tenoh Haruka would not be at the benefit concert tomorrow but she would not let that deter her. Somehow, she would meet the blonde again and convince her to become her model.

It had been two years since she had felt the need to create, two years since she had felt anything, two years since she had felt like she was truly living. After just one meeting, the woman seemed to hold Michiru's very soul in her hands. She could not let her go.

She dared to whisper her name, "Tenoh Haruka," revelling in the feeling of every syllable on her lips and her words seemed to float away on the wind, to the glittering city beneath her.

* * *

Even though it was technically a benefit concert in her name, Michiru was only to play the ending. The rest of the concert had been filled with various acts such as the Tokyo Youth Symphony, which was sponsored by the Kaioh Arts Foundation.

Her first performance in two years, Michiru was set to play the flashy Sarasate Zapateado with its titillating double stops and false harmonics. When played right, it was positively electrifying, leaving audiences in awe, and it would be the perfect piece to play after her extended hiatus.

How smart of her mother.

Michiru wore an alabaster, sleeveless high-neck dress that clung to her curves, and her aquamarine tresses flowed freely. Thunderous applause rang throughout the room as another piece came to an end and her stomach clenched tightly, her gloved arms grasping her sides. She was smothered, trapped in her expansive waiting room. Her unopened violin case, unearthed from the depths of her closet, lay on the table, its unmarred gleam seeming to taunt her. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead and fearful tears began to fill her shaking eyes.

A sharp knock on her door broke the heavy silence in her room.

"Please be ready to go on stage in eight minutes, Kaioh-san."

* * *

Thunderous applause died down and the audience waited with baited breath for the true performance they had all come to see. The stage conspicuously empty, quiet murmurs began to arise as minutes passed without the violinist's appearance.

Haruka slipped out of her seat and exited the concert hall, walking around the venue aimlessly. She was slightly disappointed that she would not be able to hear the aqua-haired woman play; she was supposedly one of the best living musicians in the world and for some reason, she had a feeling it was true

Yet with the woman's no show, Haruka now had a precious few minutes free before she had to go back and attend the reception, mingling with the elite as the perfectly mannered gentle(wo)man.

As she made her way down velvet stairs, she stopped when she noticed a female silhouette at the bottom of the steps. Aqua tresses curled to an end just below the woman's shoulder blades and Haruka felt a bolt of recognition. Even though she knew better, she couldn't resist and called out lightly,

"They're waiting for you, you know."

Michiru turned with surprise at the husky voice that seemed to warm her entire body and saw the blonde dressed in a designer suit, one hand casually in her pocket. Her face fell into an easy, confident smile, although she clutched her hands in front of her tightly, in an effort to keep her trembling hands still.

"Thank you for coming here tonight, Tenoh Haruka-san, prodigious racer," she spoke smoothly with nothing in her perfect visage giving a hint as to her inner turmoil, "have you given any more thought to my request?"

"It's your first performance in a while, isn't it? That's what all the people were talking about," Haruka easily evaded her question.

"Will you model for me?" Michiru responded in kind, ignoring the blonde's question.

"Why does it have to be me?

"You have sad eyes. You don't rely on anyone at all and you are always true to your feelings. But even when you're surrounded by a lot of people, you are always still alone; even when you smile, your eyes are sad, like they belong to someone who doesn't think they deserve to be happy..."

Haruka stared in shock at the woman who seemed to consistently rob her of her voice whenever they met before turning away. She couldn't handle the weight of the cerulean eyes, which seemed to pierce into her very soul and bare it open and vulnerable. She methodically walked up the stairs to get away.

"Please… Please, will you meet me at xxx Gallery tomorrow morning?"

Haruka paused, hearing the naked need in Michiru's voice, but refused to turn around and respond. For some reason, it felt like if she saw the artist right now, she'd run to her and confess every single thought and emotion she'd ever felt.

And so she ran away.

* * *

Michiru watched the disappearing back of the blonde, feeling the rush of energy that had coursed into her body at the appearance of the racer promptly leave her. She slumped back against the bannister of the stairs, when Hayami walked briskly to Michiru, yanking her arm down and causing her to stumble in her heels.

"You fainted, do you understand me?" Hayami whispered furiously into her ear before calling out, "Mamoru-kun, over here."

He rushed over, his dutiful look quickly replaced by a look of concern as he took in the abnormally pale visage of Michiru, who seemed to be weakly leaning on her mother.

He went to her side, placing his hand on her back and asking, "Are you alright?"

"Take her to the hospital please, Mamoru-kun. I'll take care of the concert."

Making eye contact and seeing Michiru's small nod of resignation, he swept her slender figure into his arms and strode to his car. After gingerly placing her into the passenger seat, he took the wheel and began driving.

"Mamoru, please take me home."

He glanced at her and pulled the car to a stop at a curb.

"Are you sure? You should see a doctor first."

Michiru smiled, seeing his forehead creased in worry. She poked it with a slender finger, smoothing the furrow out and laughed at Mamoru's momentary confusion. He joined in her laughter, grabbing her hand and warmly holding it in his.

"You worry too much. I'm perfectly fine."

* * *

_"Kaioh Michiru's Performance Canceled at Last Minute Due to Hospitalisation"_

_By Fujimoto Jadeite_

_On March xx, Kaioh Michiru held a benefit concert, raising over $50,000 for the Kaioh Foundation, whose mission is to preserve Japanese traditions in the modern age. While including well-known musicians and groups like the classical pianist Yusuke Amade and the Tokyo Youth Symphony, the concert's final and most awaited act was to be Kaioh's own performance of the ever delightful Sarasate Zapateado._

_In 20xx, Kaioh Michiru stunned the music world when she announced she was going on an indefinite hiatus due to health issues. She stepped down from her position as concertmaster of the Tokyo Symphony and cancelled her various concerts and upcoming album. As two years passed without a single public performance, t_ _housands mourned for what seemed to be the end of the beloved violinist's illustrious career._

_This benefit concert, announced last month, was to be Kaioh's first performance since her hiatus and tickets for the much anticipated concert sold out in mere minutes. However, when at last it was time for Kaioh's appearance, the stage remained disappointingly empty for the expectant audience and the concert was brought to an abrupt end._

_It was then revealed that Kaioh had been found unconscious backstage and urgently taken to the Chiba Hospital. Although no official statement has yet been given regarding the artist's current condition, sources close to Kaioh have revealed that her fainting was most likely due to overexertion and that she is expected to be discharged soon._

_Although disappointing, it is our fervent desire that Kaioh make a full and quick recovery._

_Notable attendees/donors at the concert included Albert pon Garayan, the conductor of the Tokyo Symphony, Takuzo Igarashi, the current concertmaster of the Tokyo Symphony, Chiba Akihito and Chiba Mamoru, the incumbent chairman and the vice chairman of the Chiba Group, the latter of whom is also Kaiou's longstanding partner, and Tenoh Haruka, the famous F1 racer._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midori Goto's rendition of Sarasate Zapateado is positively electrifying and I highly recommend listening to it.
> 
> I've taken a few quotes from some of the official Sailor Moon poems. Does anyone know where Endou comes from? I'll be very impressed if anyone knows its origin!
> 
> I've written a lot of scenes that'll occur later in the story so now the problem is just getting to that point but I'm very excited and I hope you will continue to read this story! 
> 
> I'm nearly done with the next chapter and it has a lot of M/H and M/U!


	4. Chapter 4

She wasn't going there to see the aqua haired violinist.

She wasn't.

She was simply taking the scenic route to the clinic and if she happened to come across an art gallery, then well, it would be a more attractive option than going to physical therapy.

That was it.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the woman who had refused to leave her mind since the day they met.

Sighing in defeat, Haruka raked a hand through her hair, grateful that the streets seemed empty despite the nice weather. This was a terrible idea.

Every rational bone in her body was screaming at her to turn around; Michiru would never have to know just how much she had been tempted to meet her and she would hopefully take the hint that Haruka was not interested in whatever she was offering.

Yet she found herself walking straight to the gallery and upon spotting the woman waiting for her in a light periwinkle dress, Haruka felt her mountain of excuses crumble. The change was subtle but Michiru's own face lit up as she sighted the blonde, and she smiled as the gentle breeze blew her hair to the side.

Ignoring the fluttering of her traitorous heart, Haruka made her way to the front of the gallery, looking anywhere but at Michiru as she asked, "So what do you need me to do?

* * *

As much as her artistry had been acclaimed, it was strictly regulated by her mother, and Michiru had found an outlet in this small, neighbourhood art gallery. Its local and modest nature was its very allure for her, a place she could almost claim was solely hers, a part of her own isolated world. As an anonymous benefactor, she consistently donated a large amount of both money and artwork and she had frequented the gallery to savour the feeling of being unknown and enjoy the work of local artists.

Without her name on the pieces, the audience was uncoloured by any expectations and they could truly see her art as it was meant to be seen.

She had never brought anyone to this gallery and yet she had felt an utter conviction, a burning need to bring Haruka and see her reaction.

Subconsciously, she had thought of "The End of the World" as her last painting, the last gasping breaths of her dying artistry. But Tenoh Haruka had swooped in and revived her artistic soul until it was swirling inside her, begging to be expressed.

Wholly unaware of the monumental significance of her presence at the gallery, Haruka wandered around, looking curiously at the various pieces on display.

Despite her extensive experience in attending charity galas and other such public functions, this was Haruka's first time in an art gallery and she found herself at a loss as to what to say. In front of a particularly abstract painting in which she couldn't make out a single recognisable shape, she half-heartedly said, "I like the….shading...The contrasts are very...clear."

Michiru let out a small laugh, "You can freely say what you think. The beauty of art is that there isn't one absolute interpretation, no?"

Moving on to a painting that Haruka was thankful to see displayed distinct objects, the blonde asked, "Did you paint these?"

Michiru remained silent to the question but a small smile played on her face. They separated as Haruka explored the gallery and Michiru watched Haruka to her heart's content, committing every detail of her over and over into her memory.

Haruka came to a halt in front of a small, unassuming painting, depicting what seemed like a unfinished landscape of a desolate ocean. Michiru lightly stepped to the side of the suddenly quiet blonde, curious to see what had piqued her attention so.

"I can't say many people like this piece."

"What do you mean?"

"There are just so many more pleasant looking paintings. This one is a bit underwhelming, don't you think?"

After a deep contemplative pause during which the blonde couldn't tear her eyes from the artwork, she quietly murmured, "The deep sea raises all living things everywhere."

Michiru snapped her head to the blonde, feeling her heart in her throat. The blonde visibly shook off the strange feeling that had overtaken her and moved on to admire the next piece.

* * *

The couple exited the gallery and Haruka playfully said, "I've never been a model for an artist before but I'm pretty sure it requires drawing on your part."

Michiru, who had remained reticent for the rest of their visit, took a long pause before asking, "Could we meet the day after tomorrow as well?"

Although taken off guard at the sudden request, Haruka agreed with a certain amount of bemusement before leaving the aqua haired woman, who pensively stared after her.

* * *

Mamoru stared blankly at the girl in front of him. When he had agreed to come to the cafe again so that the blonde could repay him for his help, he hadn't really had any expectations, but this was certainly something he couldn't have imagined.

"So, if we look here, we can see that the poet was trying to describe his love in terms of science…"

She struggled, looking deeply at the book as if it would tell her its secrets if she was desperate enough. She'd asked for an English book from Minako that she could use to help teach Endou-san but that was where she'd got it all wrong, wasn't it? She hadn't asked Ami because her books were definitely beyond Usagi's comprehension levels (no matter how much she had improved in her English), but in retrospect, Ami would have understood and given her a book at an appropriate level. Now she was stuck with an English book of  _poems_  to make it worse. She'd had a hard enough time in high school with Japanese literature, how was she going to explain a poem in English?!

She took a surreptitious glance at the man sitting in front of her, before her eyes darted back to the book once she saw his expectant gaze on her.

She tried again, persistent to the end, "So if you see, the poet describes the girl like a lot of flower petals and a violet, and, and, he's like a falling apple and, if we translate the first line it says…."

"An object need not be large to have great volume," Mamoru helpfully supplied and with a relieved exhale, Usagi brightened.

"Yes, that's right! An object need not be lar-"

She stared at him with accusatory eyes that made him feel a tinge of guilt, "Wait a minute, are you good at English?"

"Perhaps," he admitted.

Usagi slumped down onto the table, utterly defeated. Her head turned to look pitifully outside of the window.

"I really wanted to pay you back for helping me and I thought teaching you English would be the most helpful for you," she mumbled. Mamoru couldn't help but smile at her innocent explanation but was at a loss for how he could comfort the devastated girl.

A little boy carrying a multitude of vibrant, shaped balloons in one hand and cotton candy in the other became visible in the window, and Usagi watched him pass by with a longing look on her face.

"That looks yummy. Amusement parks are such fun," she said wistfully, eyes fixated on the fluffy spun sugar.

Mamoru chuckled, "I'll take your word for it."

The blonde snapped up to look at him incredulously, "What?! Have you never been to one before?"

Surprised by her dramatic change in mood, Mamoru said curiously, "I can't say I have."

For once, he seemed to have been the one to make her speechless and not the other way around. She gaped at him before slamming her hand on the table with a determined expression.

"Endou-san, I know how I can repay you!"

For some reason, her declaration filled him with more uneasy anxiety than excitement.

* * *

Questioning glances were sent in his direction by the mass of families in the park and his mind racing, Mamoru quickly pulled Usagi into a nearby little shop.

"It's a bit hot. Why don't you get something? I think I'll just get this cap."

He picked out a nondescript black baseball cap that would help cover his face and let him go undiscovered. He wasn't doing anything wrong with the girl (of course not!) but he certainly didn't want pictures of their outing displayed on the front pages of magazines and newspapers the next day.

He went towards the cashier where Usagi was giddily waiting, and was startled when she pulled out two amazingly fantastic hats from behind her back, a bubblegum pink cap with oversized, round mouse ears, and an identical cap in black.

He weakly asked, "Those are both for you, right?"

* * *

How had he gotten to this point? He was 28 years old and the vice chairman of one of the largest conglomerates in Japan, and he was standing in an amusement park wearing large mouse ears. How had he let her talk him into this?

("Your amusement park experience won't be complete without them!")

With pink cheeks, he noted that the glances in his directions were no longer full of curious familiarity but stifled giggles. With his tall stature and formal suit that was entirely inappropriate for an amusement park, he already struck out from the crowd, but the mouse ears attracted even more attention. He pointed the cap further down his face in a futile attempt to hide when Usagi bounced out of the store.

He stared at her blankly before doubling over in laughter, his own embarrassment forgotten. With her hair already up in buns, the pink mouse ears made it seem as though she had a complete assortment of rainbow odangos on her head.

She laughed loudly with him and sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck with a wide smile, "It's a bit much, isn't it?"

His laughter subsided and Mamoru quickly said, "No, no…It's cute."

Usagi beamed at him and he suddenly found himself being dragged forward with an amazing amount of power by the petite girl.

"Hurry, let's go!"

* * *

The rollercoaster shot down and Usagi screamed joyfully even as fearful tears streamed from her eyes. Mamoru gripped the bar tightly, his own eyes open wide with fear. This was it. This was how he was going to die.

* * *

They wandered into the zoo section of the park and with each animal, Usagi's excitement increased exponentially until they finally came upon the new baby pandas, at which her excitement seemed to explode and she squealed incoherently, jumping up and down while holding his arm. While her eyes were glued to the animals, he took the time to watch her.

* * *

Usagi scarfed down a box of takoyaki as Mamoru looked in sheer amazement at the mountain of empty boxes he suddenly found himself holding.

* * *

She offered him a bite from the cotton candy that was at least twice the size of her head, and Mamoru accepted, taking a bite from the fluffy pink ball. She looked at him with glittering eyes and although he personally didn't like overly sweet things, he said it was good and watched her expectant face bloom into a smile.

* * *

Although he had remained silent throughout most of the haunted house with Usagi doing enough screaming for the both of them, he faced the most terrifying sight of his life in the ticket booth. He jumped backwards in fright at the ticket collector, whose deeply sunken in face conveyed a lifetime of suffering. Nearly crashing into other park goers, he found his arms spinning frantically as he tried to catch his balance. Usagi had been scared but not nearly as much as Mamoru and she laughed at him to the point tears spilled out of her eyes. Blushing, Mamoru looked at the laughing blonde before joining in her laughter.

* * *

The two walked out of the amusement park against the backdrop of a warmly glowing sunset.

"That was fun, right Endou-san?" Usagi asked, still full of energy.

Although he felt exhausted, Mamoru had genuinely had fun and he voiced his sentiments, much to her joy.

Suddenly struck with a revelation, she turned to him with a concerned look in her eyes, "Endou-san, do you have a family?"

He coughed in surprise before quickly reassuring her that he did in fact have a living family. She smiled in relief, "I was worried. Wait a minute, if you haven't been to an amusement park before, have you ever visited a shrine for New Year's?"

"No," Mamoru professed.

"Participated in hanami (flower viewing)?"

"No."

"Eaten toshikoshisoba right on midnight on New Year's Eve?"

"No."

"Gone to a ryokan?"

"Yes." (for business)

"Visited a Tanabata festival?"

"No."

"Eaten ramen?"

"Yes," Mamoru said wryly; he was still a full blooded Japanese person after all.

But Usagi seemed to be of a different mind, and her eyes turned wet with tears.

"Endou-san, you're worse than a foreigner who's never been to Japan. How on Earth have you never done any of these?" she lamented before switching gears and turning drastically serious. She grasped his hands tightly, "This is no longer the simple matter of me paying you back. This is me doing my duty as a Japanese citizen, making sure you experience what every Japanese person should have experienced before becoming an adult. Will you meet me at Hikawa Shrine tomorrow?"

Mamoru was startled but he smiled warmly at her solemn declaration and Usagi felt her heart flutter.

"Okay."

* * *

No one had ever grasped the meaning behind her art.

Of course art critics tried to, explaining away her fixation on bodies of water and other such natural landscapes as being a commentary on the fast-paced and industrialised nature of modern society. Reporters of salacious, third-rate magazines connected her use of bright, scarlet shades to Mamoru supposedly cheating on her.

No one had grasped the significance of her art like Haruka had, not even mentioning how instantaneously Haruka had understood it. It was exciting and utterly terrifying at the same time.

She hadn't been lying when she said that particular painting wasn't liked. In her observations as an unknown visitor of the gallery, most people took a single glance at the seemingly unfinished piece and moved on from its overall depressing nature. But that painting was one Michiru held dearly to her heart, seeing it as both a reflection of herself and a hope-filled homage to the deep sea that raised all living things everywhere.

She stared at the smirking face she had sketched in front of her and shivered when a small breeze flew in from the open window. With the season becoming warmer as spring slowly arrived, she had started to keep the window open more often.

She focused back on the blonde's face, hoping it would give her the answers she sought but was left in a deeply contemplative state.

Tenoh Haruka was dangerous.

* * *

Haruka nursed a beer, hand clutching her dully throbbing chest.

She had felt her barriers faltering in her interactions with the artist and the old pain in her chest had flared up almost instantaneously, as if her body was reminding her that she wasn't allowed to enjoy it. She had no right to enjoy it.

The image of the strange painting of the sea and the desperate need that always seemed to fill Michiru's beautiful face took over her mind and Haruka groaned in pain before quickly shutting the woman out of her mind.

Yet the unending depth of Michiru's enigmatic, cobalt eyes remained and with a generous swig of her beer, Haruka darkly mused:

Kaioh Michiru was dangerous.

* * *

She used all of the muscles in her face when she laughed.

The women in Mamoru's life always had false or pinched smiles. They were scared of wrinkling their smooth skin or were unable to move due to an overuse of Botox. Smiles were nothing more than tools to maintain the pretense of civility and luxury between people who could only be called fair-weather acquaintances at best.

But Usagi had none of that.

When she laughed, she did so without restraint, the skin around her eyes freely crinkling as her entire face innocently conveyed all of her joy.

The image of her various reactions from their outing earlier in the day lingered in his mind despite the extensive paperwork that swallowed his desk and Mamoru drank the finest scotch in all of Japan in a single shot, a move that would have brought tears to liquor connoisseurs. The burning sensation gave his distracted mind something to focus on and he shut the mouse ears cap away into a drawer.

Tsukino Usagi was dangerous.

* * *

Usagi sprawled out on her bed, a content smile on her face.

The first day of spring break couldn't have been more perfect. Even though she was completely devoted to becoming a social worker, sometimes she just needed to forget about everything and have fun.

Her belly was perfectly full with various foods from the park and she was more than ready to go into a deep and restful sleep after her eventful day. Her half-awake mind wandered over to the man she had visited the park with.

Endou-san was...really handsome and cute and… (zzz)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the episode of Usagi's date with Seiya was cute, but I really wanted to see it with Mamoru. (Also, I feel like my Mamoru has turned into a mixture of Mamoru and Tsuruga Ren from Skip Beat! but I don't know how to stop)
> 
> The deep sea quote is taken from one of Michiru's poems in the Sailor Moon CD's. The poem mentioned is actually a Korean poem, The Physics of Love, that was mentioned in the drama Goblin (which I recently watched and adored).
> 
> I made it for Michiru's birthday!


	5. Chapter 5

After a day spent locked in her studio, Michiru now stood waiting outside of the gallery. Unlike the warm forecast, it was a brisk morning but she stood undeterred in her suede heels.

* * *

Dressed down in a loose white button down, Haruka ripped her eyes away from the sight of the city below her. In a foul mood, she took a sip of her black coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste.

Was she getting old?

Even though she had gotten drunk two nights before, it still felt like she was suffering from a hangover where the world seemed entirely too sharp and her mind was murky. Was she feeling guilty about standing up the aqua haired woman? She was probably standing outside right now, waiting for her.

Haruka quickly shut that line of thought down. No, Kaioh Michiru would not be the type of person to wait pitifully outside for someone who would never come. She was an intelligent woman and she would finally understand that Haruka could not meet her today, tomorrow, or ever again outside of the public functions they'd undeniably meet at while she was in Japan. Just one month, that's all she had to endure. Once this month passed, she'd only return to Japan in six months time for the final Grand Prix of the season and then she'd be free to go anywhere she pleased. Haruka's mood soured once again.

A crisp knock rang on her door and Haruka in a bad mood altogether, reluctantly lifted herself to open the door.

"I'm not going to PT so save both your and my time and just leave," Haruka barked roughly as soon as she flung open the door.

But when she raised her head, she wasn't greeted by the strict face of her agent but by a calm yet intimidating smile.

She gaped, her bad mood overtaken with surprise, "H-how did you find me here?"

"It may have escaped your notice but you are currently staying at the Kaioh Hotel," Michiru responded before smoothly moving past the blonde and into her room.

* * *

A frosty silence filled the room.

After the sharp whistling of a kettle, Haruka brought a cup of steaming tea to the woman sitting elegantly on her couch. She settled back into the opposite couch with her own cup of coffee that had gone cold, and stared darkly at Michiru. In her silk blouse and grey fitted skirt, Michiru was conspicuously more dressed than Haruka whose shirt was liberally open, baring her collarbone.

Michiru ignored her dark gaze, taking her time as she took a small sip of the tea before setting it down on the glass table. It was only then that she raised her gaze to meet Haruka.

"You didn't come today," she stated, and though her tone was steady, Haruka could have sworn she heard a small tint of hurt. She scowled even more at this, ignoring the feeling of guilt building up inside of her; this was no good. She had to put an end to this immediately.

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to do. Maybe you're just trying to find someone to experiment with before you get engaged, and I seemed like the easiest option, or maybe you're just bored and want a side toy in addition to your boyfriend. Whatever it is, I don't want a single part of it. Whatever this," she gestured carelessly between them, "is, needs to stop."

"That's not it!" Michiru couldn't help but burst out, before taking a moment to compose herself. She saw the ever present loathing that weighed Haruka down and knew that her initial impression of the blonde had been correct. Haruka would run away as soon as she felt her barriers threatened but Michiru could not let that happen. She needed to choose her words carefully.

"Don't be silly," she scoffed and continued smoothly, looking pointedly into Haruka's distrustful eyes, "An artist needs to know her subject in and out before truly being able to capture their essence. Of course I can easily draw you right now but I want to draw you as you are, your purest form, and I can't do that unless I get to know you. Do you think the great artists of before drew their subjects the first time they met? No, they spent hours upon hours, days upon days with them before being able to paint their masterpieces. Do you think Da Vinci drew the Mona Lisa upon his first meeting with her? No, he was only able to capture her on canvas after spending time with her and understanding who she was as a person."

Michiru internally cringed at the absolute falsehoods she was uttering but repressed it, maintaining a determined front, "If you allow me to truly paint you, I'll let you have complete control over the resulting piece. If you don't want it shown in public, it'll be kept private. If you want it, I'll happily give it to you. But you will be the greatest test of my artistic capabilities."

Haruka looked begrudgingly convinced although the suspicion didn't leave her eyes. She didn't know art and she couldn't find a reasonable argument against Michiru's words but something still felt off. She drank the rest of her coffee in a single gulp before gruffly saying, "Fine. What do you need."

"Please take me to your favorite space."

Before she knew what was happening, Haruka found herself grabbing her keys and leaving with the artist.

* * *

The whirring of the helicopter began to die down as they embarked on the ground. The imposing shadow of a Gothic cathedral draped over them entirely and Michiru repressed a shiver. The cathedral was beautiful to be sure, an architectural delight, and yet she felt ill at ease here.

"I found this place while I was flying a couple of years ago. It was supposed to be renovated. I don't know what happened but now it's just stayed here in its half-restored state," Haruka said, her eyes taking in the dark beauty of the unfinished masterpiece as if it were her first time seeing it, "I wouldn't call this my favourite place but it makes me feel...I don't know. It's like I've been here before if that makes sense. Whenever I'm in a mood, this place just helps me clear my head."

After a long period of silence during which they remained at the entrance as if needing time to prepare themselves, they finally took cautious steps into the dark chasms of the cathedral, the heavy doors creaking to a close behind them.

The hall was rife with an unresolved sadness that seemed to have consumed the cathedral in its abandoned entirety and Michiru felt herself instantly drawn to the red tablets on the walls, her hands tracing the delicate carvings that made out the figure of a baby Cupid. She was supposed to be taking advantage of this time to watch Haruka but the familiar mystique of this place overwhelmed her. A storm of unnameable emotions raged inside her and she finally turned back to Haruka who had been watching her.

Haruka had never brought anyone here but when the artist had asked her about her favourite place, this was strangely all that had come to mind. Here with the aqua haired woman, the bitter sadness that filled her whenever she stepped foot in this place, seemed to double in magnitude.

Their gazes locked, the same pain reflected in each others' irises, and an unspoken connection flowed between them.

As they continued to walk into the depths of the cathedral, their hands tentatively reached out to each other and the resulting warmth of their shared hands centered them. Entering a bright hall where sunlight illuminated the room in bright jewel tones through the stained glass, Michiru felt a sharp pain in her heart, as if it was breaking with a sadness she had lived through before.

They remained quiet and if their grip on each other became tighter, it was left unaddressed as they walked across the hall to the magnificent organ in the center. It could have been considered sacrilegious but they took a seat on the steps of the altar.

There were no words that could hope to explain the utter depth of what they were experiencing and Michiru didn't know how long they just sat there together, watching the vast expanse of the hall until the light of the sun died down.

They solemnly made their way out of the cathedral with heavy hearts that somehow felt lighter than they ever had and Michiru said, "Thank you."

* * *

Mamoru went to the Hikawa Shrine with every intention of telling Usagi that he could no longer meet with her.

A plush black box weighed down his pocket, seeming to weigh down his every step despite its small size.

He'd stopped by the jeweler's right before this. He didn't know too much about diamonds or fine jewelry in general and had been relieved to find that everything had already been prepared. The ring had been made personally by Harry Winston, and it was a classy diamond ring that wouldn't look at all out of place on Michiru's hand.

No cost had been spared and the ring, although understatedly elegant, still boasted a carat size that the general public could only have in dreams.

Mamoru hadn't asked about the price nor had the assistant (how gauche) and within five minutes, he had been walking out of the store, newly burdened.

This ring was a testament to his determination. He would no longer, he could no longer spend time with this girl, not when he had invested so much of his life into the company (and his relationship with Michiru). This was one of the most pivotal times for the company with the overseas venture so close to launching and he could not let anything distract him or potentially harm the venture.

(He'd find a way to make it work with Michiru. They'd been together for seven, well really five years, and they had been able to overcome all the small bumps in their relationship. What he was feeling wasn't uneasiness but nervousness, which was normal before such a significant change. That was it. That was all.)

After making his way up the numerous steps of the shrine, Mamoru was greeted with the ecstatic face of Usagi. She met him halfway and started chattering before he could even open his mouth, "Endou-san, I only have this week off of university so we're going to have to cram as much as we can into the remaining days of this week and the next few weekends. Thankfully, Golden Week's coming up in just under two months so you can experience that normally. But for now, we have to focus on bringing you up to speed so you don't waste any more time than you have to without having experienced what every Japanese person should!"

Despite this being his third time with the blonde, he was never unimpressed by the sheer excitement and energy she had. Clearing his throat, Mamoru began to speak, "Tsukino-san, -"

A gaggle of young children dressed in temple robes ran from around the corner of the temple and suddenly, the boy in the back tripped over his robes. Falling onto the ground face first, he seemed more surprised than hurt before he burst into loud tears.

Usagi quickly ignored Mamoru, hurrying over and crouching down to meet the sobbing boy's height.

"Ara ara, it's okay. You're a strong boy, " she said reassuringly as she gently patted his back.

The boy stood up, rubbing his eyes furiously with his long sleeves as he still sputtered in tears despite his clear efforts to hold them back.

"There, there. If you keep crying, you can't have fun with your friends, right?" Usagi ruffled his hair and gazed into his eyes with a warm smile. Even as the last of his tears spilled from his eyes, the boy visibly brightened and straightened up. He nodded emphatically and Usagi beamed at him, "Oh, good boy!"

Completely recovered from his fall, he burst into a run after his friends, screaming joyfully until he was out of sight. (An old man's yell followed soon after, "What did I say about running on temple grounds?!")

She returned to Mamoru's side, unaffected by what had just happened, and although Mamoru had never known himself to be so weak-willed and unable to follow through on his promises, he found himself saying, "What did you have in mind for today?"

Her responding smile was blinding and he let himself fall into her contagious excitement, ignoring the burning weight in his pocket.

Surely he could have one good thing in his life. Surely, that wasn't too much to ask for.

* * *

The parents made easy work of their dinner, the finest marbled beef in all of Japan resting on their ceramic plates, seeming to deliberately ignore the complicated mess of emotions their children all too obviously seemed to be feeling.

"Well, when shall the engagement be announced," Akihito stated with a satisfied undertone in his voice that Mamoru quickly picked up on. He must have been alerted to Mamoru's visit to the jeweler's.

Michiru's face froze as her eyes remained fixated on her methodical knife work, her steak reduced to mere slivers on her plate.

Picking up on Mamoru's reticence, his mother quickly laughed, waving her hand, "I'm sure Mamoru wants to make sure his proposal is perfect, let's not make him any more nervous than he already must be."

After a polite round of chuckling, Michiru's father cleared his throat, "Oh, how are the overseas preparations coming along?"

Mamoru had been staring into his plate without taking a bite much like Michiru although his abstention was due to the excessive amount of fried chicken and strawberry cake taking residence in his stomach ("You just can't celebrate Christmas in any other way!"). A sudden stroke of inspiration hit him and he latched onto the life line inadvertently given to him.

"They have been going well. Actually, I wanted to bring up the idea of postponing the engagement until the Chiba Group officially announces the overseas venture."

The room seemed to freeze as everyone looked towards Mamoru, Michiru trying hard not to let her face betray the rush of hope she was feeling. Mamoru avoided her gaze, looking firmly in the direction of their parents (Even though he knew they shared similar views on their impending engagement and he had just gotten the idea, he still felt bad for doing this without her prior knowledge and approval).

Michiru's father was the first to break the silence with a good-natured chuckle, "I see. How very old-fashioned of you, Mamoru. You want to be more established in your work before getting officially engaged, don't you? You're already very accomplished but I appreciate your work ethic."

His words broke the tension and Mamoru continued earnestly on this wave, "Yes, you're right Kaioh-san. I also think it'd be beneficial for both of our families if we were able to postpone the engagement. When we officially announce the overseas venture, our families will see a large growth in power, and if we capitalise on that initial rush to announce the engagement soon after, public approval will grow exponentially and our companies are sure to see even larger boosts in revenue and reputation."

Akihito looked thoughtful as he considered Mamoru's argument, nodding slowly in agreement, "What is the exact projected date for the venture?"

Although he was still the official acting chairman of the Chiba Group, this overseas project had been Mamoru's from the beginning. It was his brain child, the true test of his business acumen and skill that would prove his prowess as a businessman and that he was worthy of becoming the chairman regardless of his birthright.

"It was March 30th as of yesterday."

"Good. Then by the end of the month, we will publicly announce the engagement after the business announcement."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next chapter will be more of H/M and M/U and we'll also see more of Usagi's perspective. I really quite like the next chapter (it's longer as well!) but I guess I'll see if my opinion is shared when it's posted. 
> 
> I hope you'll continue to read in the meantime!


	6. Chapter 6

_April xx, 20xx (7 years ago)_

Chamber music drifted throughout the expanse of the ballroom, accompanied by a low murmur of polite conversation.

Courteously excusing himself from the well-painted, preening women who had encaged him the entire night as if he were their prey, Mamoru slipped away into a secluded balcony. Years of attending balls like these had afforded him an uncanny knack at discovering hidden nooks in which he could take brief respites from the suffocating nature of these events.

He welcomed the cold breeze that brushed against him as the last warm vestiges of the bright ballroom left him. Noticing a female figure already present but wholly unwilling to return to the harsh lights of the ballroom quite so soon, Mamoru went to the opposite side of the balcony. He took a generous swig from the champagne glass still in his grasp, longing for the harsh burning sensation that came with strong liquor but instead experiencing a pleasant bubbly sensation.

"Are you running away as well?" A mellifluous voice danced over to his ears and he sharply turned towards the woman, taken off guard by her question despite her non-accusatory tone.

Startlingly deep eyes caught his gaze, a genuine smile playing on her lips, and a sense of kinship bloomed.

* * *

Within the next three weeks, Haruka and Michiru spent their days together (all for the sake of art, they tried to remind themselves) and Mamoru found himself experiencing a lifetime of memories with Usagi.

* * *

They went cruising down an empty highway in Haruka's sleek Ferarri and Haruka allowed herself to revel in the feeling of the wind without thinking of anything else for the first time in a long while.

Michiru looked sideways to the driver beside her, her curls flying freely in the wind. Haruka was fixated on the road in front of them but Michiru saw how a pure excitement seemed to emanate from her as if it couldn't be contained by a mere physical body and how her eyes gleamed fiercely, unburdened. It felt like Michiru was seeing Haruka for the first time and she was...breathtaking.

* * *

It was breathtaking. Mamoru had never been surrounded by such a wide variety of bright, flashing machines, and despite himself, he found himself drawn to a crane machine filled with tantalizingly colourful spheres.

After twenty tries (and twenty mindless swipes of his card), Mamoru finally managed to snag one of the spheres and triumphantly held it out to Usagi who looked even more excited than him.

"Wow! I've never seen someone win one of these!"

Mamoru allowed himself to puff up a little bit at her excessive praise and handed the sphere to her. She quickly opened it to pull out a golden star locket, which upon opening, was revealed to be a pocket watch. A quiet melody swirled out from it and a strange melancholy settled over the two as they stared, entranced by the star still in Usagi's palm.

"Oh, Endou-san, you have to try the racing game too!"

Usagi clutched the locket tightly in one hand and grabbed Mamoru's hand in her other hand, bringing him to the racing games.

* * *

Michiru clutched Haruka tightly, savouring the feeling of being so close to the racer that she could feel each heartbeat against her cheek. Although she had never been on a motorbike before and they were traveling at speeds that couldn't be legal, Michiru's heart was racing, not with fear (she trusted Haruka with her life), but with an emotion she was hesitant to label. Her arms tightened around the blonde's waist and she surrendered herself to the whims of the wind.

Haruka muttered a quick prayer of thanks that Michiru was behind her and thus unable to see her heated face. Although she had been with countless women before, the simple act of riding on her motorbike together suddenly seemed infinitely more intimate than anything else she'd ever done. The sensation of Michiru's soft body against her threatened to overwhelm her senses but Haruka pushed it to the back of her mind and tried to slow down the furious racing of her heart.

* * *

Mamoru's heart beat furiously as he faced the most dangerous challenge of his life yet.

It seemed determined to resist his attempts at controlling it and he teetered precariously on his seat even as the tree loomed ever larger with each passing second. With a desperate, sharp jerk of the handles, Mamoru just managed to avoid the tree, indelicately falling onto the grass, bike and all.

Usagi cried out in worry as she ran over to him, hurriedly brushing the stray grass off of his clothes and making sure he hadn't been physically hurt.

"Are you okay?! I'm so sorry! This was just how I was taught to ride a bike so I thought it'd work for you too!"

The thundering of his heart finally dying down, Mamoru released the breath he didn't know he had been holding and began to laugh. Usagi looked at him with concern before an idea struck her and she sprang to her feet.

* * *

_squeak...squeak...squeak_

Teeth gritted with determination, Mamoru made his way through the park on the impromptu tricycle. Usagi sat behind him, momentarily letting go of his waist to spread her arms in the air. She gleefully whooped, and the scene was just oh so picturesque, excluding the fact that the training wheels greatly limited their speed. The stares of the bystanders proved to be too much and Mamoru finally came to a stop with burning cheeks.

"Are you tired, Endou-san? Here, let's take off the training wheels and switch places!"

Now at a much faster pace, the couple made their way through the park as Usagi took charge of riding the bike with Mamoru holding onto her tightly with cheeks that were now pink for an entirely different reason.

* * *

Her cheeks pink, Usagi looked lovingly at the plates of food set down in front of them and began to dig in. Mamoru started eating in a more composed manner, meticulously picking out the bell peppers in his salad with his chopsticks and pushing them to the side.

Usagi paused in her devouring of her meal, to stare incredulously at him.

"Endou-san, you have to eat your bell peppers too!"

He looked guiltily at her, a sheepish smile playing on his face, "But...you know"

"Eat!"

"All right, all right!" Mamoru capitulated, shoveling the bell peppers into his mouth in one swift move. His face crinkled up as he forced himself to chew, and Usagi giggled, even as she herself discreetly pushed some carrots to the side of her plate. Endou-san kept showing parts of himself that she would never have expected from him and it was strangely endearing.

* * *

It was strange. Haruka quickly learned that despite the natural elegance and grace that exuded from Michiru, Michiru had an extremely dirty mind. It revealed itself at the most unexpected of times, Michiru saying things with such offhanded flippantry that Haruka was blindsided with every remark. Even though Haruka was far from innocent, Michiru's subtle comments always caught her off guard and blushing.

Once, while walking in the park together, they heard the screaming of a young child as he threw a tantrum, "I DON'T WANNA GROW UP!"

Haruka chuckled, pitying the two suffering parents who looked exhausted and stressed as they tried to calm down their sobbing toddler.

"There are so many more fun things to do as an adult. He really doesn't need to do this," Michiru remarked and a blush slowly consumed Haruka's face. Loudly coughing and double checking that the parents weren't in hearing distance, Haruka grabbed Michiru's arm and still made them quickly run away from the scene.

* * *

Usagi quickly ran, not wanting to waste any of their time at the shrine but desperately needing to go to the bathroom. She left behind a flustered Mamoru, who stood frozen in front of the box they had just drawn their fortunes from.

Apparently, it was essential for every Japanese person to experience drawing their fortune, even if they weren't necessarily religious or superstitious. Unable to resist, Mamoru took a surreptitious glance at the fortunes he was holding, his in his left hand, and hers in his right hand.

" _Great Blessing." "Great Curse."_

* * *

Usagi returned, but Mamoru promptly excused himself to go to the bathroom as well. He handed her the fortunes, "The left one is yours and the right one is mine."

Once Mamoru disappeared from sight, Usagi couldn't help herself and peeked at the contents of their fortunes.

" _Great Blessing." "Great Curse."_

She bit her lip in consternation.

* * *

Finally, with all of their physical needs taken care of, the two of them stood in front of the shrine and opened their fortunes together.

Mamoru opened his, and blinked in shock at the words that greeted him:

" _Great Blessing."_

Usagi leaned over to read his and clapped delightedly, "Wow Endou-san! That's the best fortune you can get!"

Mamoru stared at her and he asked a question, already knowing the answer, "What did you get?"

"Great curse," she laughed, "but it's okay! I got good blessing at New Year's so I'll still have a lot of luck!" Mamoru felt an emotion he had never felt before threatening to take over his heart, and he smiled affectionately at her before they went to tie the bad fortune on a tree together.

* * *

Michiru began to call Haruka at midnight. As if seeing her during the day wasn't enough, as if trying to make up for a lifetime of not having known the blonde, Michiru's heart swelled with emotion each night until it woke her up with the utter need to see the blonde.

Perhaps Haruka also felt restless at nights or maybe she was just humouring Michiru, but Haruka never failed to pick up Michiru's calls.

* * *

The pain in her chest had been unbearable since her return to Japan and it particularly flared up during nights. It felt like the bare muscle of her heart was being peeled one layer at a time and then being put in a vice grip, and Haruka passed her nights, thrashing in pain on her bed.

When Michiru had first called her, Haruka had accepted it by accident but then she had found a momentary reprieve from her torturous misery through the calls.

They talked about everything and nothing and Haruka was able to repress the pain, focusing solely on the soothing and mellifluous voice speaking to her. Most nights, she fell asleep, curled up on her side and still tightly clutching her phone, identical slow breathes coming out of the phone that had never been hung up on.

* * *

Even as Mamoru stayed up late with bloodshot eyes for countless nights, working on all of the files he had pushed off during the daytime to meet with Usagi, he couldn't find it in himself to regret the hours he had spent with her.

* * *

One night, Michiru confessed that she had lied to Haruka.

"Most famous portraits were done on commission, in which case the artists went over and painted subjects they had often never met before… A true painting isn't really of the subject. It's the artist who reveals herself through her work… and I finished my piece a while ago."

Michiru was met with silence and she tensed up in her bed, tightly grasping her phone. She had known that her confession could possibly lead to Haruka refusing to meet her ever again but she could not keep up the facade any more, she did not want to. She wanted their relationship, the thing she now treasured most in the world, to be free of facades and deceptions.

A husky chuckle spread from her phone, and Michiru felt her nerves leave her all at once.

"I know. You left your sketchbook in my car."

The relief Michiru felt was brief as she tentatively asked, "Did you take a look at it?"

"Can I?"

"Yes."

The brief rustling of pages was the only thing that could be heard on the phone as Haruka presumably took out Michiru's sketchbook and opened it to her piece. Silence once again took over and Michiru attempted to mask the anxiety filling her, lightly asking, "Well? Did I do you justice?"

She had never been one to rely on critics' approval of her pieces to feel satisfied as an artist, but she needed Haruka's answer with a fervent desire she had seldom felt before.

"...Yeah."

Despite her one-worded response, there was a certain rawness to Haruka's voice and Michiru felt like she was there with Haruka right now. She savoured the word with closed eyes before saying, "I know I said you'd have complete control over the piece, but I'm afraid I put too much of myself into it. If I shared this piece, I'm afraid the secret of my soul would be exposed to the world."

Her words were playful and serious at the same time, and the underlying implication was clear; Haruka had been made privy to one of the most secret, deepest recesses in Michiru's soul that she did not allow the world to see, just as Michiru had somehow gained access to Haruka's own soul and every mark and groove that was embedded on it.

There was no more need for words that night but they remained on their phones, listening to the sound of each other's breathes until the following morning.

* * *

"What were you thinking when we first met?"

' _That I had met someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my art, and my very soul itself.'_

"I have a thing for blondes, didn't you know?"

* * *

" _Juuban Botanic Garden Now Open for the Season"_

Usagi had eagerly brought the two of them here upon seeing the sign, but now that they were in the greenhouse, Mamoru seemed more excited than Usagi. He knelt on the ground without a second thought of his designer pants, and delicately held the stem of a rose, smelling the wonderful aroma of the petals.

He seemed at home amongst the beautiful flowers and Usagi fell back, taking the time to observe him.

Endou-san was a curiosity.

She had never met anyone like him. He looked and acted like the epitome of a Japanese man, with his ever present composure, manners, and perfectly fitted clothes. And yet he seemed to have missed out entirely on his childhood. In places that should have been like homes to the normal Japanese person, like convenience stores and arcades, he looked adorably lost, relying solely on Usagi to guide him through. He'd assured her that he had a living family, but Usagi could tell that he had probably grown up in a much stricter household than her.

Not to mention, it almost felt like he used his manners as a way of distancing himself from others. Even though there was nothing socially wrong with his behavior (it was the contrary, rather), it made it difficult to get closer to him, but every time he lowered his barriers and allowed her peeks at his true self, it felt so wonderful. The childlike joy that lit up his face when he had finally successfully ridden a bike, the ringing of his laughter when he laughed to the point tears came to his eyes, the way his eyes lingered whenever they passed by clothing shops with mustard coloured clothes in the windows, the simple fact that he didn't like bell peppers...Endou-san was far from perfect and every imperfection, every small quirk she came to know about him, made her fall for him even more.

"That boy, he's always so busy with his work but he always comes here when he has time. He's a tender soul."

A male voice interrupted her reverie and Usagi turned, startled to see an older man with ruddy skin, marked by the extended amount of time he spent in the sun. He was staring at Endou, much like herself, and even though he was a stranger to her, she couldn't help but get closer to him and ask, in an attempt to learn more about the man who had quickly captured her heart, "Really?"

At her question, the gardener looked at her for the first time and did a double take, as if expecting to see someone else, but he quickly recovered, "Oh, I'm sorry. You are…?"

"Tsukino Usagi!"

He chuckled at her jump to attention and introduced himself, "Kurebayashi Yoshiki. I'm the official botanist of this garden. What brings you here today?"

"It is my duty to make sure Endou-san experiences everything a Japanese person should!"Usagi declared emphatically with her hand raised in a fist.

"Endou-san?...ah I see. How very noble of you. Are you a student?" He asked, a strange expression on his face that Usagi didn't notice.

"Yes! I'm currently attending Juuban University."

At this time, Mamoru finally tore himself away from the roses and rejoined Usagi's side, rejuvenated in a way that only roses could make him feel.

"Oh! Kurebayashi-san!" He said with surprise.

The botanist scrutinised him before saying, "Tsukino-san, why don't you take a look at the newly grown pink roses while the two of us catch up briefly?"

Sensing that there was something wrong between the two men, Usagi nodded happily and bounced off to the mentioned roses, although she couldn't help but keep a worried eye on them.

It looked like the botanist was reprimanding Endou-san who kept his gaze down at the floor, as if guilty and unable to defend himself. But Usagi couldn't imagine Endou-san doing anything so bad to look like that. Just what was going on?

* * *

"Mamoru… What am I supposed to think when you bring a college girl here with you? You've never once brought your girlfriend here in the five years I've known you… Have you and Kaioh-san broken up?"

"...No."

"Then what's going on? That girl didn't even seem to know your real name!"

"..."

 _Sigh_  "Look, Mamoru, I know you're a good guy, but you're being entirely unfair to the both of them."

"I know… I know."

* * *

Mamoru had been strangely reserved since their visit to the botanical garden and so Usagi brought him back to the shrine, hoping that he'd be able to clear his mind of whatever was troubling him.

"This is supposed to be done during Tanabata but since you haven't done it before, I thought it was too long overdue. Here, write down the wish you most deeply desire to see come true. If you really wish for it, it'll come true!" she said, handing him a bright loop of paper before writing down her own wish.

Mamoru paused, his pen on the paper. A paper that would grant the wishes written on it… If only that were true.

He shook his head in an attempt to dispel the negative and skeptical feelings that had begun to well up in him, and wrote carefully, " _Clarity and Direction."_

As Usagi finished writing her wish, they both tied their wishes onto the tree, and Mamoru hoped beyond hope that he would be granted his wish so that he would figure out how best to resolve his situation.

Usagi glanced at him by her side and instinctively took his hand in hers. The sudden warmth surprised Mamoru, who broke out of his pensiveness and blankly stared at the blonde.

"It's okay Endou-san. You wrote your wish down so it will come true no matter what," she declared fervently, and looking into her clear eyes, Mamoru could feel himself believing in her.

He nodded, and they began to walk in the garden of the shrine, their hands not leaving each other.

"What did you wish for?"

"For everyone's happiness and for strength so that I can become a social worker who can protect everyone."

Mamoru realised with a jolt that he had never asked about her future aspirations despite the time they had spent together, "Oh, have you wanted to be a social worker for a long time?"

Usagi hesitated, letting go of his hand and taking a seat on one of the large boulders in the garden. Looking uncharacteristically somber, Usagi spoke "All of my friends have always known what they wanted to do. Ami-chan is really smart and she's wanted to be a doctor her entire life. Rei-chan's really good at fighting and she's studying to become a public defender. Mako-chan's really good at cooking and she just opened a cafe this year. Minako-chan's really good at singing and she's recently been signed on to an agency….But when I think about it, I've never really been good at anything.

I studied really hard with my friends to enter university because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do and they were all so organised with their whole lives planned out. I thought if I followed them to college, I'd also be able to find my own path but I ended up changing my major over eight times. Even in college, I still couldn't find anything I was good at or really wanted to spend the rest of my life doing."

Mamoru continued to listen to her as he stood in front of her.

"But two years ago, I started volunteering at this children's shelter and I'd never really realised how lucky I was to have grown up with a family who loved me no matter what," Usagi looked up and her eyes were shining with a bright passion, "And I just knew with this absolute certainty that I'd found what I'd been searching for my entire life. I'm going to become a social worker who can protect everyone and make sure no child lives their life feeling alone and without a loving family. Children are the most precious people in the world and I will protect their innocence!"

She wilted at the end of her determined declaration, "This is my fifth year in university. Since I only started studying to become a social worker two years ago, I've been working really hard to graduate this year, but sometimes it feels like my family and friends are still just waiting for me to change my mind... I mean, I guess I can't blame them since I've always been a bit ditsy. I know that better than anyone else… I guess it was a bit silly to bring that up, wasn't it?"

Mamoru sat next to her on the boulder, this time taking her hand and sharing his warmth. He began to speak, looking out into the serene garden before them, "I don't think you changing your major several times was due to you being ditsy. I think it just shows how you have a lot of dreams and how your heart is filled with an amazing amount of love for others. You were just trying to find the best way you could use that love to help people and it's because of that, that I know you'll be an amazing social worker."

He turned to her, a tender smile on his face. Usagi stared at him with watery eyes, her heart bursting with a love different from what Endou had just described, before tearfully nodding, "Uh huh!"

* * *

"Endou-san, did you always know you wanted to be an office worker?"

"I can't say I ever was uncertain about my future. Ever since my birth, I knew I was going to become the ch-, an office worker like my parents."

"Wow, that's amazing! But if you never explored anything else, how do you know there's not something else that you'd really love to do?"

"I…"

"Ahh! I'm sorry! I'm sure you're doing what you love right now! I'm sorry if I made you confused!"

* * *

Later that night (early morning to be exact), after having finished all of the required paperwork, Mamoru leaned back into his chair, his mind wandering back to Usagi's words.

There was absolutely no way for him to pursue anything else at this point. He liked his work and he was good at it, if he did say so himself. It was all he had ever known.

The notion that he could pursue another path, at his age with his family, was nothing more than a fanciful dream but it was interesting to wonder what he would have been passionate about if he had never had the burden/influence of his family.

* * *

_Wednesday, March 28th, 20xx_

They walked underneath the blooming cherry blossom trees, looking up in awe.

Mamoru had studied abroad in America in Massachusetts, and even with Michiru's family's emphasis on traditional Japanese culture (and his subsequently large amount of experiences going to tea ceremonies and other such events), he didn't think he'd ever participated in something so utterly Japanese until this moment.

Hundreds of people seemed to be out on the streets, from children who ran around, giddy to be out of school, to young couples who were more focused on each other than the blossoms, to elderly couples who walked slowly but steadily with intertwined hands. Usagi kept her gaze on the trees above them, mesmerised by their beauty even though it was far from her first time seeing them.

A flash of aquamarine appeared in the corner of Mamoru's eye and he felt guilt pierce his serenity.

He was the most terrible person in the world. His girlfriend, near fiancé, was suffering from a serious slump, and he was happier than he'd ever been with a girl who did not know his name (He tried to assure himself that the feelings he'd developed for Usagi were purely platonic, even as he knew they were not).

The aqua haired woman turned out to be a different woman. After Michiru's impromptu hair change, the trend of hair dying had seen a revival in Japan, with teal being the uncontested new favourite.

Another flash of bright aquamarine caught his eyes, and Mamoru took only a quick, cursory glance in that direction before doubletaking. Michiru was coming out of a traditional tea house, her arm lightly wrapped around the arm of a blond man.

Falling cherry blossom petals danced in the wind around them, and combined with their complementary yukatas and overall visually striking figures, it seemed as if they had walked straight off of the pages of a magazine. She smiled coyly at the blond, saying something that seemed to catch him off guard and make him blush, when she caught sight of Mamoru, who was himself with another blonde. She looked happier than he'd seen her in years.

They both stopped in their tracks, staring at each other. Upon further examination, Mamoru saw that the man Michiru was with, was actually the female F1 racer, Tenoh Haruka.

A look laden with silent understanding and more emotion than could ever be voiced, passed between the couple and they continued on their separate ways, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off their chests.

* * *

Usagi had insisted they stay at the park until the sun set because it would be a different experience. She hadn't been wrong.

With the warm glow of the sunset illuminating the entirety of the now empty park, it felt like they were in an entirely new world that was only for themselves

Mamoru looked to his side where Usagi walked, the wonder in her eyes not having diminished even slightly, and felt his heart overflowing with an emotion he could no longer contain. He stopped walking, turning directly to her. She stared at him with a guileless curiosity, and ignoring all of the rational parts of his mind, Mamoru slowly leaned toward her.

Usagi's eyes fluttered shut as she went on top of her toes to soften the height distance between them, and seeing her adorably innocent and expectant face so close to his own, Mamoru couldn't do it. He could not in good faith, kiss her when he was actively deceiving her about his identity.

In an almost painful move, he turned his head to the side and dropped a kiss on her smooth cheek. Usagi's eyes immediately flew open and she fell onto the heels of her feet as Mamoru quickly straightened and looked away in an attempt to calm down his racing heart. A pout formed on her face before she determinedly went back on the tips of her toes and pecked him chastely on his lips.

Now, Usagi was the one to turn away with a blush spreading on her face. She avoided his surprised gaze and finally mustered up the courage to apologise when he suddenly grabbed her by her waist and passionately kissed her. After the first few seconds of shock had passed, Usagi closed her eyes, melting into the kiss and Mamoru's warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this kiss, we're going to snowball into drama so please continue to read! There was a lot of fluff in this chapter and I hope you'll enjoy the scenes as much as I had fun writing them! (Mamoru riding a tricycle is one of my favourites haha)! 
> 
> When Michiru talked about art, I used some quotes from The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oliver Wilde (highly recommend!), and I hope this chapter also gives you some insight into Usagi's character (who I hadn't had the chance to really delve into).
> 
> (Just in case it was unclear, Mamoru originally drew Great Fortune while Usagi drew Great Curse. So first Mamoru switches them, being considerate for Usagi, but then Usagi also switches them, being considerate for Mamoru, which is why Mamoru gets his original fortune).


	7. Chapter 7

_January xx, 20xx (5 years ago)_

Michiru elegantly stepped out of the car, one heeled foot after the other and turned to the man holding the car door open for her. Following a polite, if stiff dinner with their parents, Mamoru had driven her back to her apartment.

Not too long after that day on the balcony, they had entered into a relationship with an unspoken understanding between the two of them that it was to be purely for show; it would just be a way to quiet their parents' demands to start dating someone suitable and to keep the persistent suitors and women who hounded them at bay. They went to family and public functions together and had actually started a close friendship during those times, but there was no romance involved at all.

She had even continued to see Elsa during their first year of "dating," although she had eventually put an end to that illicit affair due to a niggling sense of guilt that had persisted even when she reminded herself that her relationship with Mamoru was nothing more than a mutually beneficial façade. (What was to say he didn't have his own lover?)

She studied him as he closed the door for her. He cut a striking figure in his long winter pea coat, and the tip of his nose had turned pink in the brisk winter wind even though they had not been standing outside for long. A sudden rush of endearment coursed through her and Michiru impulsively took a hold of his gloved hands.

"I am quite fond of you," she confessed, looking directly into his eyes. A look of bemusement crossed Mamoru's face but he didn't pull away, and Michiru used the shared warmth of their hands to anchor her in her next words.

"That is...would you care to join me for some tea?"

The rosy colour that had risen in her cheeks belied her confident tone, and in the back of her mind, she mused on how strange it was that she felt nervous asking her (admittedly false) boyfriend of two years into her apartment for the first time.

She raised her gaze to him and saw that finally Mamoru had understood. His own cheeks slightly tinted red, not at all due to the cold, he cleared his throat before responding.

"That would be wonderful."

* * *

_Wednesday, March 28th, 20xx 9PM_

Paperwork surrounded him, an abundance of blank lines where his signature was needed staring at him. Numerous stacks of folders swallowed his desk, all with urgent notes that they needed to be completed as soon as possible. With the overseas venture due to break ground in two days, tensions could not be higher.

Yet his chair faced away from the desk, and Mamoru sat with his head in his hands. With a loud sigh, he straightened in his seat, revealing a blushing face with a silly smile that could not be wiped off his face.

Despite being the furthest thing from it, he felt like a school boy who had just received his first kiss. An utter feeling of giddiness filled him, making him feel as if he could float off the ground.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm the erratic racing of his heart and clear his mind but the sensation of Usagi's soft lips on his took over and he burst forward from his seat in surprise.

* * *

_Wednesday, March 28th, 20xx 10 PM_

Mamoru sat at his desk, furtively twirling a pen in his hand. Now that his initial euphoria had passed, reality had set in.

First and foremost, the overseas venture was set to go live in two days, with a large social function held by the two families that would be attended by both Japan's elite and countless members of the press. That was his priority for the next two days.

But the surprise announcement that would follow on the next day, that he and Michiru were to be engaged...could not be allowed to happen. He could no longer lie to Usagi (he'd spend the rest of his life making it up to her if she'd allow him to) and he could no longer lie to himself. He and Michiru had never felt more for each other than an affectionate comradeship and their marriage would have been one of only convenience. Even if Usagi would refuse to see him after his confession, he could not be with Michiru (who had looked happier than she had in years with the racer).

Chiba Mamoru was irrevocably in love with Tsukino Usagi.

He could not marry Kaioh Michiru.

* * *

_Wednesday, March 28th, 20xx 10 PM_

Lying on her side with her hair pooling around her like a glowing halo, Usagi stared beseechingly at the phone in her hands. After a few seconds of willing the phone to ring and having the dark screen of the phone reproachfully stare back at her, Usagi fell back onto her back, looking up at the ceiling.

He'd call her right?

The memory of their kiss made its way back to the forefront of her mind and Usagi snuggled into her pillow with flaming cheeks.

He'd call her…

Endou-san would call her.

* * *

_Thursday, March 29th, 20xx 6:30 AM_

Mamoru woke up, his mind clear for once and unburdened. He had a lot of work cut out for him today but he had a clear plan. He'd handle everything with his work and and then with his family to cancel the engagement, and he would finally go to Usagi an honest man. Determination filling him, Mamoru set off to work.

* * *

_Thursday, March 29th, 20xx 12PM_

Usagi fiddled with the straw in her milkshake and her friends immediately took notice, worry filling them at her uncharacteristic restraint.

"Usagi, it's been so long since we've all met!" Minako said brightly and in an effort to playfully discern what was going on, "Don't tell me, did you get a boyfriend while we were all busy?"

Usagi's hand stopped twirling her straw, an unmistakable colour rising in her cheeks, and with a collective gasp, the three girls and one phone leaned towards the blonde.

"Who is he?!" "Do we know him?!" "Does he go to Juuban?!" "Pictures! Show us pictures!"

Flustered, Usagi raised both hands in the air and shook them in denial, her hair bouncing in unison, "No, no, it's nothing like what you're thinking! I was just helping him experience what every Japanese person should have experienced a long time ago!... but he did kiss me last night."

Four jaws dropped before they began to speak over each other frantically.

"Spill the details now! Just who is he?!" "Have you known him for a while?" "Was it romantic? Did he confess his feelings to you? Oh I bet he was as romantic as my senpai!" "That Usagi would find a boyfriend before me, the goddess of love!"

"We're not dating!..." Usagi vehemently denied before her voice got smaller, "he hasn't even contacted me since the kiss."

Minako took charge (for she was the self professed expert on matters like this) and said matter-of-factly, "Well, it did only happen yesterday. It could be that he's just been too busy with school or work and he'll contact you this evening once he's free. What was the kiss like? You said he initiated it right?"

"Well… I kissed him first. And then he pulled me into a kiss and….it was really sweet. It felt like I was going to melt."

"Did he take you home? How did he act afterwards?"

Usagi felt as if she was being interrogated but continued to answer Minako's questions to the best of her abilities, "He drove me back home. We didn't really talk after the...what happened and then I entered my home," she drooped, "That's not a good sign, is it?"

"What kind of a silence was it? Was it intense like you were about to kiss each other again or timid like you were both blushing?"

Everyone turned to the phone being held up by Makoto to stare in surprise at the blue haired genius who seemed to shrink in the screen and refuse to say anymore. Going to a different university and being a medical student at that, Ami had been unable to come in person to their weekly get-together and so she was participating via video chat.

Minako happily jumped onto Ami's question, "What kind of a silence was it? That's really important!"

"Um, uh, a regular silence? Um , I don't really know?"

Minako took a moment to think critically about Usagi's response before saying, "Well, it's not ideal but we can't know what he's thinking."

"Should I call him?" Usagi offered only to be abruptly cut off by Minako.

"No! You don't want to seem desperate especially since you kissed him first! Wait until he calls you!"

"Okay, we've waited long enough, show us the guy!" Rei interrupted impatiently and Makoto nodded in agreement, eager to see the guy who was sure to look like her former senpai.

Usagi slowly took her phone out, pulling out a picture from the amusement park where the two of them were wearing their matching mouse caps. She was smiling brightly at the camera while Mamoru grinned sheepishly, as if not knowing what to do.

A sudden silence fell over Minako and Rei who exchanged wary glances with each other while Makoto fawned over his looks, "Oh, this is the guy you brought here before! Oh, you're so lucky, he's so gorgeous!"

Makoto quickly brought the picture in front of the phone for Ami who had been eagerly waiting for her turn to see Usagi's new beau. Ami let out a small oh! of surprise before falling quiet and Makoto worriedly checked the connection until she was reassured that Ami was still connected to them.

Rei carefully asked, "What did you say his name was?"

"Endou," Usagi responded as she took back her phone but yelped when she saw the time, "Oh! It's time for my class! I have to go, love you guys!"

She ran off in a hurry, leaving behind an uneaten milkshake for what had to be the first time in her life.

"We have to tell her," Rei and Minako said simultaneously and Makoto stared curiously at them.

"Tell her what?"

"That her Endou isn't really Endou," Ami responded on the phone, her face showing a stern concern, "He's Chiba Mamoru of the Chiba Group and he's been dating Kaioh Michiru for the past seven years."

"What?!"

Rei crossed her arms over her sleek, scarlet dress that nicely matched the fury she was feeling, "He's absolute garbage. You really can't trust men."

"I knew his relationship with Kaiou Michiru seemed too good to be true. Japan's golden couple, my butt," Minako said, disgusted by the new revelation. Makoto remained bewildered, unable to say anything.

"I feel so sorry for Kaioh-san. She doesn't deserve this," Ami said; she had always been a fan of Kaioh Michiru's work.

"I feel sorry for her but how are we going to break it to Usagi? She's clearly already head over heels for him, it's going to break her heart," Rei said frustratedly, although her eyes betrayed her deep concern for Usagi.

At this, they all fell silent. They were all too aware of Usagi's all too tender and loving heart; it was why they loved her so much and why they tried to protect her when they could.

"Maybe he won't ever call her again?" Makoto offered weakly, already knowing the answer to her question.

"That's still going to hurt her…. If he calls her, we'll tell her and if he doesn't, we'll tell her by the end of the week," Rei declared emphatically.

* * *

_Friday, March 30th, 20xx 12:30 AM_

Michiru gazed at the city below her on her balcony. Her gauzy silk negligee and loungewear were wholly inappropriate for the still brisk night wind but she relished the wind's caresses on her skin.

Suddenly emboldened, she went towards her closet where a certain case lay, once again hidden after its brief respite, before coming to an abrupt halt. Michiru grabbed her hand to stop it from trembling and tried to take a deep breath to calm down but found herself frustratingly near tears.

But she could live like this no longer and this resolve carried her as she opened the door and laid her eyes on it.

* * *

" _[The phone rings.]_

_Michiru?_

_Right now?_

_Iwake Beach will still be there tomorrow and the day after._

_It's an inconvenience._

_Just wait. I'll be there soon._

_[Hangs up the phone.]"_

* * *

_Friday, March 30th, 20xx 2:30 AM_

They sat on the sand, illuminated only by the pale glow of the moon and its reflection on the tranquil sea in front of them.

"I've never been sure as to why I was born…" Michiru stated, her light tone contradicting the serious nature of her words, "But it didn't matter to me as long as I had my music and art. They were all I needed and without them… I'm lost so to say."

Haruka remained silent, sensing Michiru's need to release everything.

"It happened over two years ago. I don't even know exactly what happened; I just lost all of my passion… When I first saw you, I knew you were someone who could prove to me that I was still alive. But I'm still so…" Michiru's voice broke and she whispered the last word, "terrified."

"I can't remember a single moment in my life when I didn't have my violin. But the last time I played…. I… I'm so  _terrified_ that I'll pick my violin up and it'll feel strange and unnatural. Because that'll mean… I've lost it. I will have lost…  _everything._ "

She clenched her hands, her gaze steely and fixated on the sea before them as if it was withholding the answer she so desperately seeked. There were no tears in her eyes but Michiru's breathing was unsteady, her small, trembling breaths the only visible sign of her complete and utter devastation.

"You once said that I was always true to my feelings," Haruka's husky voice took over the silence that had fell, "But that's not true. I keep running away."

She paused before mustering up the courage to continue, "I was in a car crash. It wasn't my first, hell I've crashed into Seiya on purpose before. But this one…"

Michiru turned towards Haruka with pained eyes.

"Before I crashed, all I could think of was how he needed to stop blocking me so I could overtake him. I was so annoyed, I started pressing him and then... "

"I still have one more season to complete in my contract and so I pushed through all of the physical tests and examinations so I could participate this year and just be done with it all. But I'm still so afraid to race… Not because I'm scared I'll get into another crash but because I'm terrified I'll still love it when I don't deserve to."

"Even in the charity race, I stepped foot into my car and I immediately felt this joy to be racing again and it just took over all of my senses until the last lap…"

"I killed a man. What does it say when I still love driving after that?"

She outstretched her hands in front of her and continued silently,

' _These hands have been tainted now.'_

And finally, the guilt that had constantly weighed Haruka down, the burden Haruka willingly carried as penance for an action she would never forgive herself for, was made clear in the unwavering light of the moon. Michiru leaned closer to Haruka, intertwining their hands and looking into eyes that flickered, lost in its own darkness before fixating on Michiru.

"Haruka. It's all right. I like your hands."

Hands tightly intertwined, together, they stared at the shimmering waves before them for an unknowable amount of time.

"Will you play?" Haruka asked quietly and Michiru took a shuddering breath before resolutely letting go of Haruka's hand and turning to the oblong case at her side. She felt aware of every single muscle in her arms stretching and contracting as she opened the case to reveal the gleaming violin within. She let out a small gasp upon seeing her violin, unchanged despite years of unuse.

With all the tenderness of an old lover, Michiru gingerly picked her violin up and found herself instinctively walking to the edge of the sand where the waves lapped at her feet.

For the first time in two years, Michiru lifted the violin to her shoulder. It should have felt awkward and unfamiliar, a strange weight on her shoulders and yet when she finally placed her bow upon the strings, it felt like she was going home and Michiru wondered just how she had  _lived_  during the past years.

Her eyes closed as she began to refamiliarise herself with the music, playing any and every piece that came to mind before finally settling on a mournful melody that the world had never yet been graced with.

As the last remnants of the music lingered around the beach, Michiru returned to Haruka, setting her violin delicately down in its case. Her eyes were glistening with unspilled tears and in a fluid move that felt as natural as breathing, she placed a slender palm on the blonde's face. Their eyes locking on each other before fluttering shut, they met in the middle in a passionate kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your support! All of your kind words motivate me so, so much! We've finally set the stage with both couples having reached a crucial point in their relationships! What could happen next? 
> 
> I really do think Michiru would be severely affected if she wasn't able to play the violin for two years. It's such an integral part of her life/identity that even the idea of not being able to truly play the violin would be absolutely terrifying.
> 
> The part in italics was a quote from Haruka's Prologue poem in the Sailor Moon CD's and I used some quotes from the anime Michiru.
> 
> (Manga) Rei really is such a fascinating character.


	8. Chapter 8

_Friday, March 30th, 20xx 7:00 AM_

She woke up, blinking her eyes several times in the face of sunlight. Unwilling to get up quite so quickly, she burrowed herself into the sleeping blonde's side before propping her head up on her hand.

From her vantage point, she examined Haruka as she slept, noting with no small amount of satisfaction the various marks that spotted her neck. From there, she went to Haruka's sleeping face, feeling a swell of affection for her. Unable to resist, she placed a light kiss on the still, pink lips, and played with the idea of having a morning just as active as the previous night. Oh who was she kidding? She wasn't playing with the idea, she was completely set on it.

Michiru made to move onto the blonde with mischievous eyes when her cell phone started to buzz on the table stand. Sighing with regret, she reluctantly got out of the bed, taking care to not disturb her lover.

"Hello?"

"Are you with…..her right now? No matter, return to Tokyo immediately. We have a lot to discuss."

-click-

* * *

_Friday, March 30th, 20xx 9:00 AM_

Mamoru stepped out of the elevator and immediately sensed something was wrong even though this floor was restricted only to his office, a meeting room, and several assistants/secretaries. Although they were usually there to greet him with polite bows and smiles as soon as he entered, their heads were all bowed down as they typed furiously on their computers and fielded an excessive amount of calls.

His chief secretary greeted him politely and Mamoru grew more worried as he took in her bloodshot eyes and her slightly wrinkled uniform (she was the epitome of professionalism and he had never seen her not look put together).

"Please take a look at this report as soon as you can, sir. The chairman and his wife are in your office as you requested but as soon as you finish, you'll have to go straight into a meeting with the board of directors."

Nodding quickly but not really absorbing her words, Mamoru strode past her, his suit jacket draped on his arm. He would deal with whatever had transpired after telling his parents of his news. The announcement for the Chiba Group's foray into the international market would occur today but the announcement of his engagement to Michiru would not happen the following day or the day after that or ever. They wouldn't take it well (the understatement of the year) but he would have to make them understand that he could no longer live like this.

Anxious at the thought of his momentous act and Mamoru quickly flipped through the report as he entered his office, hoping to distract his nerves.

He froze.

His eyes quickly scanned the paper and Mamoru could feel his heart stop. No, this could not be happening.

His mind blank except for the news he had just learned about, Mamoru sat down on the couch across his parents.

"How could all of our American partners suddenly pull out?! And who's started bidding on the patent? There has to have been a leak," he speculated with an incredulous tone as he began to scribble potential courses of action and contingency plans onto the report, "I apologise but I must reschedule our meeting."

When his parents didn't move from their seats, Mamoru finally looked up and saw how his father was stoic, as if set in stone, with a deep crease in his forehead.

Akihito raised a shaking fist before slamming it onto the side of his armchair. Mamoru barely managed to contain his surprise and stared inquisitively at his father, when his mother pulled out a manila envelope.

"This came to your father's office today," she said stiffly, outrage tainting her entire face. Without hesitating, Mamoru peered into the contents of the envelope before feeling his heart sink. His gaze followed the direction of his heart, dropping down to the ground as he suddenly found himself unable to face his father.

After a long silence, Akihito finally opened his mouth.

"I thought you were ready. I trusted you with full control over this venture… but you have severely disappointed me."

His words were ice cold daggers that accurately stabbed Mamoru each time, and Mamoru wished his father would yell at him instead of this torture.

"All of this work done for naught because of a  _girl?_ You weren't able to catch this leak because you were off gallivanting with a  _girl?_ "

Mamoru's head sunk lower. How could he defend himself when everything his father was saying was right?

"You… are not worthy of becoming the chairman. I have never been so ashamed to call you my son."

And with these final words, Akihito lifted himself from his chair and left the room with imperious, deliberate steps.

Mamoru remained in his frozen state, staring at the ground when the couch suddenly lowered as his mother sat next to him and gripped his arm.

"It's not too late, we can still fix it with the Kaiohs. They haven't received these photos, or we would have heard about it. If we just give this reporter exclusive rights to covering all of the pre-wedding news, we can get rid of this entire mess. The public's expecting a big announcement today so we can just announce your engagement while you figure out what to do with the overseas venture," she said urgently.

At Mamoru's continuous silence, Katsumi huffed contemptuously, "That girl… She's studying to become a social worker, right?"

Mamoru finally reacted, abruptly jerking his head to meet his mother's gaze, and she smirked.

"Mamoru, I don't need to remind you of the Chiba's political clout. I could easily make it impossible for her to ever get certified as a social worker. And I also learned her younger brother's entering university soon. I imagine it'll be extremely difficult for her family when her father loses his job as well."

"Don't," Mamoru burst out as he glared furiously at his mother, "Don't touch her or her family… I'll do it."

"I'll marry Michiru."

* * *

_Friday, March 30th, 20xx 10:30 AM_

Michiru sat at ease with her legs leisurely crossed. She had come back to the mansion because she knew her mother would not leave her be, but her mind was far away; she had every intention of returning to Haruka as soon as possible. The blonde was probably awake by now (although perhaps not since Michiru had thoroughly exhausted her the night before). Had she read the note she had left behind?

A small cough brought Michiru's unusually distracted mind to the scene before her and for the first time, she took notice of the frigid tension filling the parlour. Her father looked simultaneously furious and disbelieving while her mother stood next to his armchair, her mouth pulled into a tight line.

Hayami slapped a manila envelope onto the glass table, dozens of photographs spilling out. Michiru curiously picked up one of the photos before straightening and putting it back onto the table without showing a visible reaction.

"These arrived this morning with a letter. He's threatened to release these to the public unless we provide him with a bigger story."

"Michiru, how  _could_  you have done this to us?" her father suddenly deplored, his eyes silently imploring her to tell him the photos were nothing but manipulations, that she was still his perfect daughter. Michiru avoided his gaze, staring straight at the sofa in front of her.

Masashi opened his mouth to speak but found himself at a loss for words with only increasingly heavy breaths leaving him, and his wife quickly laid a hand on his arm. He staggered to his feet, supported by his petite wife, and left the parlour without a further glance at his daughter.

For the first time since she had stepped into the house, Michiru's face betrayed a visible emotion as she looked concernedly after her departing father, but by the time her mother had returned, Michiru was as expressionless as ever.

Hayami's hand seemed to be trembling with rage, but in a move that visibly took a large amount of effort, she took a deep breath and seemed to just barely repress her anger.

"Must you have been so  _selfish_?!" she spit out the last word, her carefully painted face distorted into a repugnant scowl, "Did you never think about what would happen to your family in doing this? We cannot endanger our position with the Chibas!"

At this, Michiru finally faced her mother and spoke dryly, "Oh please mother. Don't pretend that our relationship with the Chibas is so one-sided. The Kaioh family still has the most influence in Japan and the Chibas need the Kaioh's support, especially with their overseas venture."

Hayami scoffed, "How naive of you. Do you really think our family will remain unscathed if news of your… dalliance is revealed? And while our family has a more prestigious legacy, the Chibas have the means to financially ruin us."

Michiru opened to speak but was abruptly cut off.

"Enough! Your little… fling," the word seemed to leave a sour aftertaste in Hayami's mouth, "ends now or I will be forced to take measures against her as well."

A feigned sincerity dripped from her voice, "That crash of hers was just terrible, leading to that poor man's death. It'd be an absolute shame for an investigation to open into the accident, now wouldn't it? I'm sure she had nothing to do with it, but you never really quite know."

Michiru turned to glare furiously at her mother with pupils that quivered with intensity, every muscle in her tensed.

"No matter how much you think you love each other, do you really think your relationship could survive that? Will  _she_ be able to survive that?" Hayami asked with a sneer, victory written on her face.

Veins jutted prominently on the back of her clenched hands as Michiru whispered quietly, "What do you want?"

"I just want my daughter back," Hayami simpered, switching to an overly sweet parent once she was sure of Michiru's obedience, "We have a dinner tonight so you must dress your absolute best. This is an extremely important night."

With a self-satisfied air, she strutted away, leaving Michiru frozen and alone in the vast, white parlour. Even despite the short length of her neatly trimmed nails, they dug into the soft flesh of her hands, leaving behind crescent-shaped marks. She thought of the blonde and closed her eyes as she felt tears welling up.

After all Haruka had confessed to her the night before, there was no way Michiru could allow that to happen. How could she?

A suffocating pain wracked her heart and despite the urge to curl up and disappear into the sea so she wouldn't have to deal with such heart-wrenching pain, Michiru squared her shoulders and walked heavily to her quarters.

* * *

_Friday, March 30th, 20xx 7:00 PM_

Surrounded by the various directors and presidents of both the Chiba and Kaioh Groups, Mamoru sank down to his knee and proposed.

A traitorous tear slipped down Michiru's face as the heavy ring slid onto her trembling finger, and it was so strikingly clear to Mamoru that this was wrong, that something, somewhere along the line, had gone horribly wrong.

Fawning wellwishers converged upon the couple, besieging them with congratulations as two hearts shattered.

* * *

_"Japan's Golden Couple Officially Engaged"_

_By Zoisite_

_At long last, wedding bells are in the future for Japan's most loved couple. After seven years of dating, Chiba Mamoru, 28, and Kaioh Michiru, 28, are finally engaged!_

_The most eligible bachelor and bachelorette of Japan are now officially off the market, with their surprise engagement confirmed by both the Chiba and the Kaioh Groups_

_Although the Chiba Group was due for a large announcement that was rumoured to have been related to a business expansion, many guests were pleasantly surprised when Chiba Mamoru suddenly proposed to the Kaioh heiress._

_"It was so very romantic. [Mamoru] went on his knee in front of everyone with this gorgeous ring and [Michiru] couldn't help but cry tears of joy when it was put on her finger. You could just feel how much they loved each other," a source who was present at the party, gushed._

_Days after returning from studying abroad in the United States and Vienna respectively, Chiba Mamoru and Kaioh Michiru met each other at a charity ball, and are said to have fallen in love immediately. They began dating and their relationship withstood the test of time, lasting over seven years, even as their peers became involved in dating scandal after scandal. Although Kaioh suffered mysterious health problems that forced her to take an extended hiatus from working as an artist and musician, her relationship with Chiba remained strong, showing no signs of weakness._

_The wedding is set to take place in six months, on November 17th. In a statement released by the parents of the two heirs, they expressed their delight for the couple._

_Make sure to be subscribed to my newsletter because I've been granted EXCLUSIVE access to all of the pre wedding news! That's right, all details about the wedding will be covered by me, Zoisite! Stay tuned!_

* * *

_"Kaioh Michiru is pregnant?!"_

_By Zoisite_

_In delightful news, Chiba Mamoru and Kaioh Michiru, Japan's undeniable Golden Couple have officially become engaged after seven years of dating. However, their wedding is set to take place on November 17th. For a couple who spent seven years together before becoming engaged, six months seems like a suspiciously short amount of time._

_Is there more than just a wedding on the way? If you recall, Kaioh Michiru recently had a benefit concert this month, but was unable to perform when she fainted of overexertion. Women in early stages of pregnancy often faint due to increased levels of hormones. Coincidence? I think not!_

_Two years ago, Kaioh Michiru announced a hiatus due to health issues. According to a secret source close to the heiress, the health issues had to do with fertility issues! Before becoming engaged, their families wanted to make sure Michiru would be able to have children so as to continue the Chiba and Kaioh lines. Now that they're engaged, it seems likely that Kaioh Michiru must finally be pregnant!_

_This would explain why the couple suddenly decided to marry in such a short amount of time, but only time will definitively tell if Kaioh Michiru is pregnant or not! I for one, definitely believe she's pregnant! Who else can't wait for perfect little Chiba / Kaioh babies?_

_I officially declare this the beginning of the belly watch! I'll be having my cameramen on the ready 24/7, but send in any candid photographs you're able to catch of Kaioh Michiru!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! How's that for drama? ;; Of course I couldn't let them have their happy endings that quickly/easily.
> 
> Zoisite was the reporter who got all the "scandalous" photos of M/H and M/U, so he blackmailed both families separately. Unlike his fellow Shitennou, Zoisite's more of a second rate gossip rag writer (a just slightly classier version of Perez Hilton, if you will).
> 
> Near the beginning of this story, I wrote out the majority of the Mamoru/Michiru scenes because I wanted to write them very badly and so I was really excited to get to the point of the story where I could include those scenes. Yesterday, I suddenly found myself in the mood for Mamoru/Usagi so I wrote some future scenes of them and now I'm excited to get to that part of the story!


	9. Chapter 9

_Friday, March 30th, 20xx 10:30 AM_

Haruka stretched her long limbs languorously before succumbing to the bright light of the sunshine and groggily opening her eyes. A gentle breeze flew into the room from the wide open windows, causing the pure white curtains to float dreamily. Feeling a slight chill, Haruka looked down at her naked and marked body and felt the memories of the night rushing back to her.

A light blush settled on her face before Haruka noticed the absence of another body in the bed. Turning over to the side, she couldn't help but take in a deep breath of the pillow, her senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of the woman who had captured her heart. Feeling regretful that they couldn't share the morning together, Haruka read the note that lie in place of Michiru

' _Are you finally awake? I need to take care of some business but I'll call you._ _M'_

Haruka unconsciously took notice of how even Michiru's handwriting was as elegant as her, before covering her suddenly blushing face with her hands. She was so, utterly, thoroughly whipped. The word love came to mind but Haruka easily dismissed it. Love could not even begin to describe the depth of her feelings for the artist.

That night on the beach, in the midst of her vulnerability with her soul bared, Michiru had never seemed so strong. Playing poignant melodies on her violin and holding her hands as if sharing in Haruka's pain, Michiru had irrevocably captured Haruka's heart and soul. Even just thinking of the woman, Haruka felt gentle feelings swell and warm her chest in place of the burden she had carried with her for the past two years.

Tender feelings… filled her heart.

* * *

_Saturday, March 31st, 20xx 9:00 AM_

Usagi walked towards the social work common room, a bounce in her step. She hadn't been able to hang out with her friends a lot due to how her time had recently been monopolised by Endou-san and their time together had been cut short by her lecture two days ago, but they had plans to all meet later in the afternoon today. Even Ami would be able to take a break from her crazily busy life as a medical student and meet them in person!

Perhaps she'd have news to update them on Endou-san by then…

Endou-san hadn't called her yesterday either despite her earnest wishes. Well, this was enough waiting, Usagi declared to herself. If he didn't call her by the end of today, she'd call him first, no matter what Minako said!

Now with two clear set plans, Usagi felt much more invigorated for the rest of the day. She would spend the morning studying so that she could hang out with her friends without any worries hanging over her. Stepping foot into the common room, Usagi felt a wave of happiness wash over her.

With how she had changed her major numerous times, Usagi had had access to more than a few common rooms, but the social work common room never failed to make her feel at home. It was a cosy room with large windows that let the sunshine light up the entire room, and even with how much she disliked studying, Usagi felt like she could spend hours and hours here, bathed by the warm rays of the sun.

A group of her fellow peers also studying to become social workers suddenly drew Usagi's eyes as they all clustered over one girl's phone. Her curiosity piqued, Usagi also inserted herself into the giggling and excited group, "What happened?"

"Chiba Mamoru and Kaioh Michiru finally got engaged! He proposed to her at this big dinner in front of everyone! Isn't that so romantic?!" Unazuki happily chirped, clutching her hand to her heart in a feigned swoon.

"I can't even be mad because they're so perfect together," Natsumi sighed with annoyance, "Some people are just born with everything."

This brought on a chorus of nods before the girls went back to cooing over the phone.

"I heard the ring cost over a hundred million yen!" "Why can't I be Kaioh Michiru?" "How can two people look so good together?!" "It's like a fairytale, I'm so jealous!"

Even though she didn't know who they were talking about, their excitement was contagious and Usagi found herself nodding emphatically with what they were saying. A couple's engagement and promise to love each other forever was always an occasion for celebration in her book!

With a sly smirk and a suggestive arch of her eyebrows, Natsumi said, "Did you see Zoisite's second article? He's saying they're getting married so quickly because Kaioh Michiru is pregnant."

Naru shushed her immediately, "Oh come on, they're above mistakes like that. It's probably because they dated for so long that they don't need to wait a long time before their wedding. Besides, Zoisite isn't really the most reputable source."

"Maybe, but now he's the only reporter with access to the prewedding news so he's our only source," Natsumi said with feigned nonchalance, although her words seemed to have convinced most of the girls who blushed at the idea.

"Oh it's all just so romantic! It's like they just can't wait to get married!" "Can you imagine how beautiful the wedding will be?" "Can you imagine how beautiful their  _children_ would be though?"

"Oh my god, yes! A baby with both Kaioh Michiru's and Chiba Mamoru's features? It'd be the most gorgeous and successful person in all of Japan." "I hope they have a son. Maybe then I could marry him and finally become a part of their family!"

"Are you kidding? With those genes, I'd be thrilled to date their child even if it was a daughter." "Natsumi-chan, you're so bad!"

They burst out into scandalised giggles before they returned to sighing at the perfect fairy tale lives of Japan's elite. Usagi couldn't take the suspense any longer, bouncing with anticipation.

"Are they really that beautiful? I wanna see!"

Unazuki handed her the phone with the article still displayed, and upon seeing the picture of the couple smiling up at her, Usagi's heart froze and the world seemed to crash around her.

That was…

Endou-san.

* * *

_Saturday, March 31st, 20xx 10:00 AM_

Haruka chortled, twirling her keys on her fingers as she made her way into the Ferrari office, her mood high even a day after that night with Michiru.

Michiru still hadn't called her and if it had been any other person, she might have felt worried that she'd fallen prey to a one night stand. But she trusted her.

Upon stepping into the office, her agent caught sight of Haruka and she immediately dragged the blonde into a meeting room, away from the curious eyes of the other employees.

"Haruka, I swear to God, I'm going to kill you. What the hell do you think you've been doing, skipping all of the training and PT sessions? I just barely managed to hold everyone off by saying you were sick! I'm going to die early and I swear, it's all because of you!"

Even despite the furious tirade released against her, a grin couldn't leave Haruka's face.

"My bad," Haruka said good naturedly, "What do you need me to do?"

Kanae stopped in her tracks, the words stolen out of her mouth, as she had prepared to fight against Haruka. She didn't let Haruka's new good mood faze her for long, reverting back to her utmost professional behaviour.

"First things first, you have to get to training today. The press will be there and we need to show a unified front, especially with how the first Prix's next week. You'll fly to Austria Monday morning, and until the Prix, you're going to basically be stuck in training the entire week. Got it?"

"Got it. Thanks Kanae."

Her agent looked flustered, not knowing what to make of her client who seemed to be in an unshakeable good mood, before leaving the blonde.

Alone in the conference room with a precious few minutes before she had to go down to the garage, Haruka took out her phone. Perhaps she'd text Michiru. Quickly browsing through it, her thumb suddenly stopped.

With a careful tap, Haruka's eyes quickly flashed through the contents of the article and the weight of the world seemed to crash down on her shoulders once more.

A dull ache began to earnestly throb in the right side of her chest and her eyes slowly came to a close.

Yes. This was the way it should be.

* * *

_Saturday, March 31st, 20xx 9:30 AM_

Usagi fell onto the bench, her knees giving out once she was safely away from the rest of the girls. She had quickly excused herself with a million thoughts racing in her head.

Her eyes must have seen wrong. That was it. There was no way the Endou-san she had spent the last month with was an entirely different person.

Usagi shook her head, trying her utmost to keep the tears at bay. Her fingers trembled over her phone; if she googled Chiba Mamoru, she'd be sure to find out everything she wanted to know…

No. She'd give Endou-san the chance to explain to her first. Usagi suddenly longed to hear the soothing, deep tone of Endou-san's voice, explaining to her that everything was a misunderstanding, that there was a reasonable explanation to everything.

With her heart on the line, Usagi dialed Endou's number for the first time and felt each ring resonate in her chest.

"This is Chiba Mamoru. Please leave your name and business after the beep."

Her arm fell to her side, her phone clattering onto the hard surface of the bench.

She wasn't sure when the tears finally escaped from her eyes but there on that bench, as other university students casually walked by, Usagi sobbed for her Endou-san who was no more, a Kaioh Michiru who she had unknowingly done wrong to, and the poor, poor idiot that was Tsukino Usagi.

* * *

_Friday, March 30th, 20xx 8:00 PM_

Chamber music drifted throughout the expanse of the ballroom, accompanied by a low murmur of polite conversation.

Even outside of the harshly lit ballroom, the balcony seemed suffocating and the air seemed to be kept still as the wind refused to relieve the two suffering figures. They stood on opposite sides of the balcony, still dressed in their finery, each holding glasses of their own poison.

The familiarity of their situation struck Michiru and she let out a bitter laugh before taking a large gulp of the gin martini in her hand despite the glittering ring on her finger weighing her down. She felt more than saw Mamoru do the same with his own glass of scotch on his side of the balcony.

"I'm in love with Tenoh Haruka."

She said the words casually as if she hoped by saying them out loud, they would somehow fall off the tip of the balcony and disappear. But without the wind, the words and her feelings seemed to linger in the air, bare for the world to see.

"I'm in love with Tsukino Usagi."

Mamoru echoed her, his grip on his glass tightening unconsciously, before he brought it down fiercely on the balustrade. The sound of the fine glass shattering into small shards resonated around them, seeming to dispel their feelings from the balcony, and Mamoru bitterly whispered, almost like an afterthought, "It would have been so  _easy_ if we had just fallen in love with each other."

Michiru turned to him with deeply pained eyes. She spoke lightly, although a clear longing and conviction filled her voice, "But I don't regret anything."

"I don't regret a single moment with her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends Part I! No worries, Part II will begin in the next chapter. I can't possibly end this story without giving our couples a happy ending… right?
> 
> The last line of Haruka's first part is taken from the last line of Haruka's prologue poem and its beauty really can't be captured in English. Michiru also means to fill up in Japanese so when Haruka says gentle feelings fill her heart, she uses the word Michiru, which sounds so beautiful.
> 
> For Usagi, I've been using a combination of my current uni experiences and my limited knowledge of Korean universities. In Korea, there are common rooms for your major. Students don't really change their major so you get to know the other students in your major really well, and common rooms help facilitate that sense of community.
> 
> I am rapidly coming upon one of the most crucial moments of my life yet and so I cannot make any promises as to when the next chapter will be released. I had originally decided to take a hiatus until June 1st after finishing Part I, but I keep finding myself getting sucked into writing this story. I might decide to keep this as a stress-reliever, in which case I'll be able to keep posting. Thank you so much for reading up to this point!
> 
> I tend to post one chapter behind on AO3 because I have a bad habit of changing my mind and changing plot points. This happened a lot for the first 2-3 chapters and by posting one chapter behind here, I was able to post the finalised version without making you have to reread things. However, since I don't know when my next update will be (after June 1 passes, I'll be much more free), I'm posting the end of Part I here as well.


	10. Chapter 10

_November 1st, 20xx (16 days before the wedding)_

The grey toned atelier beamed with the illumination of strategically placed lights that highlighted the single round podium in the center of the room, surrounded by immaculate mirrors.

"You've slimmed down a bit from the last time."

The attendant remarked as she combed through the draped tulle layers that flared out from her petite waist with experienced hands. Michiru didn't respond, staring lifelessly at her reflection. The silken, heart-shaped bodice melted into every contour and curve of her body, with her shoulders left bare and the sharp shape of her collarbone distinctly protruding from her milky skin.

She was a perfect vision in white.

"Oh my, isn't she just lovely?"

The smartly dressed attendant finished making her final measurements and fluffing the numerous layers of the dress before making a quick and polite exit as the two mothers entered, cooing.

"I must meet Vera and thank her for how beautifully she designed the dress."

"Oh but the dress is only half the image. It wouldn't look half so good if Michiru weren't as beautiful as she is."

Michiru tuned them out, fixating on the shape of her collarbone and tracing out the figure of her skeleton with cold eyes.

"- It'll look so much better once Michiru's hair is black again, can you just imagine it already?"

At this, Michiru finally broke from her reverie, turning sharply to look at her mother whose eyes flashed a silent warning.

"With how long it's gotten, I think it'd be best to leave her hair down, don't you?"

"Well she has such a long neck, wouldn't it be better to highlight..."

She turned back to the mirror, her apathy restored and moved onto examining the small, intricate lacing on her bodice that had undoubtedly taken an unimaginable amount of hours to stitch. She ran a tentative hand over the luxurious Mikado silk, seeming to feel every miniscule ridge and seam embed itself into her hand which then curled into itself.

* * *

A parade of well dressed, older men slowly shuffled out of the expansive conference room with a small murmur of conversation.

Mamoru stood at the front of the room, fielding questions and shaking hands with the various directors of the Chiba Group with a professional smile on his face. One particularly distinguished looking man made his way to Mamoru, who quickly fell into a bow upon sighting him.

"Furuya-san, I hope today's presentation was to your liking."

The older man chuckled and nodded as Mamoru straightened.

"I've always admired Chairman Chiba for having such a competent son like you and today's meeting has only confirmed that. Things were looking precarious after the revelation of the leak, but your tireless work over the past few months has made the continuation of this venture possible. I have the utmost trust that you will lead this venture to success."

Mamoru bowed his head in deference at the flattering remarks of the CFO.

"It's a good thing that this is set to go live soon, isn't it? With your wedding coming up soon, I'm sure you want to finish everything so you can freely enjoy being with your new wife. I know how newlyweds are."

Mamoru politely smiled as the man cajoled him.

"With a beautiful and talented wife-to-be like Kaioh Michiru, I'm almost jealous of you myself, even though I've been happily married for over thirty years."

He roared in laughter before shaking his head good naturedly and walking away, leaving Mamoru behind in the now empty room.

* * *

Haruka stepped into the airport with black shades covering the tiredness that seemed to consume her entire body. Although her bodyguard was skilled enough to prevent the mass of paparazzi and fans from crowding her, there were persistent blinding flashes and excited chatter as they all seeked to gain a glance of the famous racer. Various slips of papers and posters were vigorously shaken at her, begging for a small piece of the racer through her autograph.

"Is it true that you will retire after this final Prix?" "How do you feel about the final Prix, given that the rankings are so close?" "Any comments on your subpar performance this season?" "How do you feel with the final Prix on the very circuit of your accident?

At the last shouted question, Haruka froze, her expression unreadable and obscured by her shades. The spectators took no notice as they continued to shout questions that seemed to blend into an unintelligible white noise in her mind.

Taking a deep breath that strained her chest muscles, Haruka walked briskly away from the crowd without a single word and finally got into the security of her car.

* * *

Usagi ran happily to her friends who were waiting in front of a fountain in the Juuban Shopping District. With beams and giggles, they entered one of the many clothing stores on the street and Usagi revelled in the pure fun she was having, simply hanging out with her friends

With the social work licensing exam coming up soon, she had been studying nonstop and this trip was a much-needed break from the brain-numbing monotony of studying.

Rei stepped out of the dressing room, somehow managing to look stylish in vintage flared trousers and a wide, scarlet headband. After an impressed round of applause, Rei went back in and Makoto came out in a flowery halter dress, twirling. The skirt billowed out around her and with a bashful smile, she stopped.

An appreciative chorus of sighs went around them and Ami replaced Makoto, coming out in a playfully chic two piece, the blue miniskirt hugging her thighs. They all wiggled their eyebrows suggestively at Ami who blushed and went back in.

Minako then sprang out from the curtains in a glamorous, scarlet dress that showed off every curve of her body and an excessively large mink coat, like the ones evil, rich mother-in-laws wore in dramas. They all let out a collective sigh and a shake of their heads before bursting into giggles.

Usagi came out cheerfully, wearing a fuku-like bolero over a white mini dress with a large pink ribbon at the back. She spread out her boot-clad legs and did a victorious V symbol with her fingers, and their laughter rang throughout the dressing room. Although it was Yoshiki Usui's latest design, it looked almost like a superhero costume rather than an outfit, which made their laughter even stronger.

Makoto ended up being the only one to like her outfit enough to buy it and they all paraded to the end of the line for the register. The line consisted of groups of girls, much like themselves, and as they waited, they couldn't help but hear the others' conversations.

"I heard her dress was hand-designed by Vera Wang herself!" "Zoisite's saying it must cost $30,000 at the very least!" "Oh my god, can you imagine how luxurious and beautiful the wedding's going to be?" "I'm not even the one getting married but I'm so excited!"

The four girls exchanged quick glances before Ami loudly spoke up, "Oh Minako-san, didn't you say you were looking for a cute makeup bag?"

"Oh, yeah! Usagi-chan, what do you think about this? Is it worthy for a future singer?" Minako vehemently asked her, holding up a glittering, rose gold pouch, "Or maybe I should get a cute one?"

She started digging into the bag section beside them, overwhelming Usagi with a variety of fruit-shaped, colourful, and sparkling bags. Usagi smiled brightly, "I think you should get this bunny one, isn't it soooo cute?"

* * *

The two mothers left the room and almost instantaneously, the attendant reentered, her hands quickly working through the numerous details of the dress and loosening it from Michiru's body.

Upon receiving a small nod, she left the room, leaving Michiru alone. The bindings now loosened and unhooked, Michiru pulled the dress away from her body and let it pool down to her ankles in a silken waterfall.

Why was it still so suffocating?

Michiru fell to her knees, her chest heaving up and down as if she had just submerged from a deep surface of water. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears that refused to spill, Michiru looked at the mirror and hated the despicable person she saw, the pathetic mess of a woman who was kneeling, dressed only in underwear and isolated in a mountain of pure white tulle.

Today, she'd be coming back but in two weeks, she'd be marrying Mamoru.

Michiru allowed herself one more second of vulnerability before pulling herself up, her arms wrapped tightly around her side. Without another glance at the discarded dress on the podium, Michiru strode out of the room with her head held high.

* * *

Mamoru collapsed into the chair, leaning over the glossy surface of the table with his face cupped in his hands. Taking a deep breath and massaging his tired eyes, he opened his eyes and the image of the room slowly became sharper in clarity. His arms fell in front of him on the table and he focused on just breathing.

In, out, in, out.

For the past six months, he had been living in a constant state of exhaustion, working tirelessly to salvage the efforts of his project after an untimely leak. Fatigue was just another part of his daily wardrobe that he wore with as much ease as he did his designer suits, and it was only upon close examination that one could see the cracks that were invading his perfect facade and threatening to shatter him.

Rare was the night when he was able to get more than a few hours of sleep and the spidery red veins in the whites of his eyes attested to that. Although Mamoru had always been of a lean muscular frame, without time to regularly exercise and eat, his muscles had become reduced with him filling out his suits just noticeably less.

It was only with his endless work that this project was now set to occur in just under two weeks, facing a six month delay. He'd called and met with endless foreign and domestic executives, pored over mountains of paperwork, and he'd barely had a second of thought to himself, let alone a chance to think about his upcoming wedding.

Their mothers had all too happily took on the role of planning the wedding, hiring all sorts of high-end planners, designers, chefs, and etc. It was for the best since he and Michiru had no such vested interest in it. Left to them, they would have gone to the courthouse and signed the legal documentation without any superfluous pomp and frill, or better yet, postponed the wedding to the point where they just didn't get married.

Pulling out his phone, Mamoru's thumb swiped across the screen until the list of missed calls greeted him. Bright red lettering stood out from the sea of numbers and names.

_Tsukino Usagi (1)_

Somehow the bright 1 made him feel worse than if she had bombarded his phone with an excessive amount of calls.

His phone suddenly began to vibrate and Mamoru was shaken from his brief moment of despondency. That was right. He had no time to drown himself in his sorrows. He needed to work.

* * *

Haruka hadn't been able to stop herself from purchasing a magazine on the plane.

"Everything You Need to Know About the Upcoming Chiba-Kaioh Wedding!"

Even as her mind screamed at her, her arm had somehow clutched the magazine and paid the flight attendant. Now it lay open on the marble countertop of her hotel kitchen (not the Kaioh Hotel).

Sipping a black cup of coffee that burned her throat on its way down, Haruka impulsively grabbed the magazine towards her, eyes viciously scanning the article.

She absorbed the information about the personally designed dress, the luxurious venue the grand wedding was to be held at, the exclusive list of Japan's elite who were to attend, and other such trivial details before chucking the magazine into the trash.

There was nothing about her.

Haruka let out a bitter laugh at the pathetic state she was reduced to, poring over gossip magazines for just one glimpse, one detail of the aqua haired woman who had crushed her heart ("You knew she was dating him right from the moment you met her. Whose fault is it really that you're this heartbroken" an altogether too reasonable voice whispered in the back of her mind but Haruka ignored it).

Popping a few painkillers into her mouth in a futile attempt to lessen the throbbing of her chest, the bitter taste in her mouth intensified and when her phone rang, Haruka answered it almost gratefully.

"You have a charity function hosted by one of the Ferrari sponsors tomorrow evening. You need to look your best to represent Ferrari, do you understand?"

The brisk voice of her agent cut through the silence in her room and Haruka mindlessly voiced her understanding. Just two more weeks and she'd be done with everything and she could finally get over the ruthless woman who still held her heart despite her best efforts.

* * *

Usagi had excused herself to the (thankfully empty) bathroom, and now she stared at herself in the mirror. Tears spilled from her glittering eyes and she tried desperately to stop them.

"Stop it Usagi. You only knew him for a month, it makes no sense for you to still be heartbroken," her words sounded half hearted even to herself and she couldn't help but wonder if Endou-san, no Mamoru-san was hurting as much as she was.

Quickly redirecting her thoughts from that dangerous direction, Usagi wiped away her tears only for them to be replaced with new droplets. She really was a hopeless idiot, wasn't she.

There was a knock on the door and Minako's voice softly spoke, "Usagi-chan, can I come in?"

Urgently running cold water over her face to erase any signs of redness, Usagi happily opened the door and let Minako in.

"Sorry, I think I might have eaten too many takoyaki," she sheepishly laughed, "Did Mako-chan finish buying her dress?"

Minako didn't match Usagi's smile, and Usagi felt her words begin to falter under the blonde's steady gaze.

"What about your purse? Did you find something you can wear as a singer?"

"Usagi-chan, we all love you and we're worried. You don't have to force yourself to act happy," she ignored Usagi's bubbly words and finally, Usagi's facade fell to pieces around her, revealing the utter devastation she had felt for the past six months. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she began to open up in a light, trembling voice.

"I know it's silly but I can't bring myself to hate him. I keep wondering, does she know that he doesn't like bell peppers? Does she know that he has a weak stomach and can't eat too many sweet things but has an even weaker resolve and will eat too many sweet things just because he wants to make other people happy?"

"Does she know that when he really, truly smiles, the smallest hint of a dimple forms on his right cheek? Does she like the way his eyes light up when he's surrounded by roses? Does she know that he's a workaholic and he needs to be reminded to have fun once in a while so that his shoulders aren't constantly weighed down?"

Minako stared wordlessly at her, her heart aching for her friend. Even with her knowledge of Usagi's overly loving heart, she hadn't known that Usagi had fallen this deeply in love with Chiba Mamoru. Her hand clenched into a tight fist; if she ever met Chiba Mamoru, she'd give him a piece of her mind for hurting her innocent friend and inflict upon him a fraction of the pain he'd caused her.

"And then I realise that I only spent a month with him. She's been with him for seven years. She probably knows more about him than I do. How could our month together ever compare to that?"

"How could I ever mean as much to him as he does to me?" With this last whimpered question, Usagi dissolved into tears and fell to her knees, arms wrapping around herself amidst large, gasping sobs. Minako rushed towards her, hugging her fiercely and on the tiled floor of the clothing store's bathroom, Usagi wept all of her pent up heart break into the warm embrace of her friend.

* * *

_November 1st, 20xx 7:00 PM (16 days before the wedding)_

Even with their parents in full control of all wedding preparations, they still had an image to uphold and so tonight they were at the opening of a new art gallery. The couple stood, a measured distance between them, as they stared at an abstract canvas, its liberal uses of various colours blending into an altogether confusing and not particularly aesthetically pleasing painting.

_'It looks like an elephant dancing happily with a bear!'_

_'I don't think the artist was quite going for that.'_

_'But isn't the beauty of art that it's free for interpretation? Everyone sees and interprets art differently based on their own experiences and the truly great pieces of art are those that everyone can connect to.'_

The corner of Mamoru's mouth lifted in an imperceptible smile, feeling his exhausted eyes light up at the thought of the blonde. Usagi would definitely say something like that. Even when he didn't deserve it, she was cheering him up, he grimly mused.

Mamoru chanced a look to his side, feeling a final sense of disappointment when he was greeted with the sight of aquamarine tresses rather than blonde buns.

Thankfully Michiru herself was lost in the painting, and hadn't noticed Mamoru's momentary faux-pas.

_'This looks like something a three year old could paint. It holds nothing to your paintings. So why don't we find something more interesting to do?'_

_'I will admit this particular painting isn't to my particular taste but in that case, would you be willing to become my canvas? I have a few new brushes I'd love to try on you'_

Although no visible change could be detected in Michiru's face, a weight seemed to have lifted from her shoulders as she relaxed in a way she hadn't since stepping foot into the gallery. She could just imagine Haruka's blushing and sputtering face, and the thought of it made her warm down to her core. A glance to her side quickly dispelled all such warmth as she examined the face of her fiance with the dispassionate gaze of an artist. After a moment, he noticed her gaze and seemed to guiltily startle.

At this, Michiru gave him a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. How pitiful they were. They were the two most luckiest people in Japan, privileged with unparalleled looks, talents, and wealth, and yet here they stood in front of an ugly painting, forsaken to a loveless marriage and futilely pining after the two people who really held their hearts.

"I quite like this piece," Michiru lilted, an undertone of sorrow in her voice before turning back to the piece that had allowed her to see and hear the blonde, at least in her imagination. Mamoru nodded in agreement as he lost himself in the brushstrokes of the painting and the blonde he'd never stopped yearning for.

For the rest of the night, the two stayed, fixated on the abstract painting no one else could bring themselves to like, an unending sea between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help it. Here is the beginning of Part II, six months after the end of Part I.
> 
> Michiru's wedding dress is based off of Michaela Pratt's bespoke Vera Wang wedding dress in HTGAWM. I personally think Michiru would be better suited to a sleeker dress but right now, the moms are in control of everything. Bonus points (and perhaps a sneak peek?) to anyone who can match where all of the Inners' outfits came from!
> 
> The italicised quotes didn't actually happen but are just M/M imagining what their lovers would say in this situation. Even though they empathise with each other, there's still this new distance/strain in their relationship because in the end, they don't want to marry each other (if that makes sense).
> 
> The next chapter really will not come until June 1st passes. As much as I enjoy writing this story (I'm so excited for future parts!), it takes more time than I can currently afford to give. I hope you will continue to read and enjoy this story!


	11. Chapter 11

_November 5th, 20xx (12 days before the wedding)_

Heels clicking ominously against the glossy surface of the floor, Hayami walked straight to the large glass windows. An abrupt sound clanged throughout the vast expanses of the apartment as the windows were shut, and Michiru gently placed her violin into its case before turning to the intruder.

A sheer black robe fell off Michiru's shoulders and the charmeuse chemise she wore did little to cover or protect her from the brisk air that still seemed to swirl in her apartment. Her mother narrowed her eyes at her questionable outfit and quickly turned the heat on before snapping,

"I will not have you sick this close to the wedding."

Michiru tucked her bare legs beneath her, lounging on the white sofa, and stared aimlessly to the side. Taking no note of her daughter's inattention, Hayami began to speak,

"Tomorrow, you'll be attending the charity art auction at Mainichi. Do spend at least 500,000 yen, we do have to keep up appearances after all. The next day, you'll have to meet with your bridesmaids…"

A long time after Hayami had left, Michiru finally rose from her position. She nimbly made her way to the windows and flung them open. The cold autumn wind rippled past her, chasing out the still air in the apartment, and Michiru inhaled it in.

* * *

_November 6th, 20xx (11 days before the wedding)_

Champagne glasses glimmered as they were raised to the elegant throats draped in jewelry and a buzz filled the air as the Japanese elite mingled in the gallery.

They were all gathered here and it was not for art or charity despite the signs that proclaimed the event as such.

No, they were here for one reason only: to flaunt their wealth in one of the few socially acceptable ways. Under the banner of culture and charity, connections were made and broken as easily as drinks were passed out.

Of course, there were a few art dealers but they were far and in between. This was after all, not an art auction of the strictest definition, with rare, coveted Rembrandts and Manets. This was a social event where pieces by well-known contemporary artists would be sold at exorbitantly inflated prices so that people could call themselves cultured.

Mamoru and Michiru arrived fashionably late, when the conversation in the gallery was at its most zealous. They looked for all intents and purposes a beautiful couple, Mamoru in a dark navy suit with a patterned pocket square that matched her metallic prorsum dress.

But almost as soon as they had arrived, she let go of his arm and moved away as he himself began to be surrounded by business associates and other young heirs.

* * *

"Michiru-san, I just can't wait for your wedding. It truly will be the wedding of the year, you must be so excited," A middle-aged woman fawned, as the other women around her nodded and murmured sounds of agreement.

"Terribly," Michiru said smoothly before taking a generous sip of her cocktail. Unfortunately, this seemed to be taken as a sign to continue.

"Oh, weddings are just so beautiful," she sighed wistfully, "especially when the couple loves each other as much as you and Mamoru do."

"Oh don't worry Adachi-san, fall seven times and stand up eight, no? Well, I must get going," Michiru spoke without a pause, gliding away from the scandalised socialite and the catty titters of the other women.

At her slightly outstretched arm, a waiter seemed to materialise by her side and Michiru gladly replaced her empty glass with a new cocktail.

She drank it and felt the urge to go home; it wouldn't be long before other people would find her and force her into empty conversation. And then suddenly, she saw blonde locks move inside the throngs of well-dressed people and she felt her heart skip a beat.

Unconsciously, she found herself following in the direction of the tall head, taking a few stilted steps in her heels before feeling sharp nails poking into her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hayami hissed underneath her breath even as a polite smile graced her face. "The auction's about to begin. Get to your seat and don't let me hear any more nonsense from you."

She muttered in distaste, almost as an afterthought, "Though Kami-sama knows that woman has been married more times than any person needs to."

As much as Michiru would have liked to ignore her mother's command, everyone was getting to their seats and the auctioneer was making his way up to the stage. With one last glance to the left, Michiru went to take her seat by Mamoru.

* * *

"Welcome to Mainichi's. Tonight, we are hosting a wonderful art collection, all of which have been generously donated. The proceeds of this auction will go towards the furthering of the fine arts…."

Michiru found herself zoning out, half-heartedly raising her paddle various times as the auction continued, only slightly noticing Mamoru doing the same by her side.

"Lot 6 is the Takeuchi Naoko. And I'll start the bidding at 450,000 yen, 46, 47."

The auctioneer chanted rhythmically as he gradually increased the price and numerous paddles were raised and lowered. Michiru let out an impromptu gasp, her eyes glimmering with emotion as she saw the photograph. A lone stargazer stood next to the rushing mountain river (and Michiru could hear the water roaring underneath her feet), face turned upwards towards the moonless sky where countless stars had burst into existence. The stars of the galaxy seemed infinite and she felt a wave of loneliness overwhelm her.

"60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 700,000," he droned on and she was still lost in the photograph as her arm methodically raised her paddle. She could not lose this one.

"75, 800,000, 81."

Michiru reluctantly tore her eyes away, searching for the person she was competing against, and felt her arm drop weakly to her side upon seeing two dark eyes staring at her.

The auctioneer pounded his gavel, and Michiru broke out of her reverie, staring past Haruka's eyes and seeing the paddle raised in the blonde's hand.

"Sold for 850,000 yen to 514. Thank you very much."

* * *

Michiru stood at the back where several people were mulling around the gallery. Most of the more ostentatious members of society were still at the front where the auction was still taking place, furiously bidding in an effort to spend the most money. After losing the bid for the photo, Michiru had lost taste for the rest of the auction and had quietly slipped out.

So now she stood, solitarily sipping a cocktail.

Seeing a blonde walk in her direction, a large frame in her hands, Michiru strode towards her with a confidence she didn't feel. Haruka froze upon seeing her, a strange expression entering her face as her eyes flicked over the woman's figure before she became guarded.

And yet Michiru could still see the dark circles under her eyes and the haggardness that she couldn't quite hide even under an extremely well-tailored Armani suit.

Weak wasn't the right word to describe the fierce blonde but she was  _vulnerable_. Underneath her charismatic and oftentimes brusque demeanor, she still lived with the aftermath and guilt of a death not hers, that mercilessly twisted and tormented her.

Haruka had not told her of the pain (phantom or otherwise) she felt in her chest but Michiru had pieced it together after a particularly bad night when Haruka had uncharacteristically asked her with a gasp she couldn't contain to just keep speaking. And although she herself preferred hearing Haruka's husky voice, she had talked through that entire night until her throat hurt, speaking of the styles of the composers she held disdain for, the only indication that Haruka hadn't hung up being her soft, ragged breathing.

Michiru bit her tongue; and then she had hurt Haruka, added to her torment.

But when Haruka was still suffering, she could not risk her mother's wrath for Hayami did not give empty threats. She would most certainly open up an investigation, poking at still tender wounds and Michiru did not want to risk Haruka, did not want to imagine the possible aftermath of such public scrutiny and condemnation. It did not matter how much this distance between them hurt her.

So, with a composed bearing that betrayed none of these thoughts, Michiru spoke, "Congratulations. I wouldn't have lost to just anyone, you know."

Her mouth quirked upwards in a half-smirk but Haruka did not visibly react.

"Have you been a fan of Takeuchi for long? I've attended her past exhibitions but I really think she's become one of the best living photographe-"

"Stop," Haruka's voice was cold, "We're not friends."

"There's no need for us to interact anymore. At best, we just used each other as distractions. I needed to take my mind off the start of the season and you wanted a last fling before you got engaged. You don't have to worry, I know none of it meant anything."

Michiru had resigned herself to taking the verbal assault from Haruka but couldn't help herself from hotly protesting, "That's not true!"

How could Haruka not matter to Michiru when she was the only thing that mattered in the world?

But then she found herself at a loss as for what to say next.

Haruka sighed, running a tired hand through her already ruffled hair.

"Forget it."

Haruka irreverently shoved the photograph to Michiru, and the artist instinctively accepted it, out of concern for its safety.

"An early wedding gift since I won't be there. I hope you have a happy marriage."

Exhaustion was evident in her voice, causing the words to lose their intended bite. Yet they still hurt Michiru with an exacting precision, and her hands tightened on the frame as she was left to watch the receding figure of Haruka.

* * *

Michiru had left his side a while ago after losing her bid for the photograph, but if he was truthful, it had taken him a while to notice her absence. He sighed, rubbing his eyes in tired shame.

"Lot 12 by Takeuchi Naoko and we'll start the bidding at 400,000."

Mamoru glanced at the photograph on display and felt his eyes widen. It was a stunning photograph of the utmost quality. Deceptively simple, it displayed only the moon against the backdrop of the night sky speckled with burning stars. It was bathed in an ethereal glow: earthshine if he recalled correctly. Although he had always known he was destined to go into the family business, astronomy and botany had been two fields that had utterly captivated him in a way business could not.

This photographer had been able to capture the earthshine, the phenomenon where sunlight reflected off the Earth and onto the moon without compromising the quality of the moon. Mamoru felt a strange twist in his heart the more he looked at it and he fervently began to bid.

* * *

She had looked good.

Her hair had been the only sign that time had passed since that fateful spring, now curling well below her shoulders although the colour was still immaculately vivid.

Haruka cursed her traitorous heart, the one that had sped up upon seeing the violinist, the one that had urged her to forget about everything and passionately embrace her, the one that wouldn't let her leave her mind.

She parked her car on the street and entered the random park she had stopped at. Haruka walked around aimlessly, trying in vain to clear her mind. (And what about  _that_  article? Michiru certainly didn't l-)

Haruka swore angrily before slumping into a bench and hunching over her knees, cupping her face in her hands. She let herself breathe in deeply before letting out a heavy sigh and leaning back on the bench, only to be greeted with the sight of a Chiba subsidiary group and a Kaioh hotel across the street.

A bitter bark of laughter escaped her. Even now, she couldn't escape her. It seemed the world was hellbent on reminding her that Michiru was marrying her perfect boyfriend, that everything that had occurred in the spring meant nothing.

"Are you okay?"

Turning away, Haruka noticed for the first time that the bench was occupied by another blonde girl. Various books lay opened and abandoned at her side as the student hugged her knees and stared at the street in front of her.

Haruka stared at the girl for a long moment before following suit and staring back at the street.

"No," she finally exhaled, "are you?"

"No," she said emptily, hugging her knees even more tightly to her chest.

A considerable amount of time passed as they shared in a mutual misery, staring at the buildings of the two people who had caused them such love and pain.

Haruka was the first to leave, rising from the bench without so much as a glance from the younger girl. Sensing her reluctance to leave any time soon, Haruka carefully made her way to the other side of the bench and draped her suit jacket over her. For the first time that night, the girl looked up at Haruka, surprise in her wide, blue eyes.

The racer nodded, before leaving for her car.

* * *

Any other time, Usagi would have objected to getting clothes from a random stranger. But it was cold, and the man's jacket was warm and it smelled nice. She pulled it closer to her and tried her best to keep it together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? My bad; I've been rather busy and I faced a bit of a creative block with this chapter. I don't know how I feel about this chapter but I'm just happy to have finished it. I wanted to thank you all for your continuing support, it really helped me! Chapter 12 will be M/H centric but chapter 13 will be entirely U/M.
> 
> This is not what a real auction is like. Instead, I modeled it after Gossip Girl 3x03's version of an auction at Sothesby's. It's not realistic but it's a lot more fun and glamorous. The photographs mentioned in the auction were modeled off of "Wanderer in Patagonia" by Yuri Zvezdny and a composite image of the moon by James McCarthy posted on reddit. I'm picturing the first one evoking some sort of loneliness in Michiru because it would have been similar to what she would have seen when she was alone on Neptune during the Silver Millenium. And Mamoru's feeling strange because of his past life as Endymion, etc.
> 
> "Fall seven times and stand up eight" is a Japanese idiom that means what it sounds like (it doesn't matter if you fail as long as you don't give up). Here, the woman Michiru was talking to is a serial divorcée and Michiru's saying it like don't worry if your numerous past marriages have failed, you can always marry again.


End file.
